The Cinnamon Horizon
by Elliot Bowers
Summary: Hackers and gangsters have taken over, eliminating bounty hunters. And a prostitute will seek revenge for her murdered family. But something else is happening. And there's dark weirdness that has to be read to be understood...
1. Chapter 1: Blood Through The Cracks

The Cinnamon Horizon 

by Elliot Bowers

Chapter 1--Through The Cracks

…

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...

_____"Criminal BASTARDS!" screamed the aggressive male. He was upside-down at the 

moment, his head near the rust-dusted concrete floor and his metal feet up in the air. "ALL 

OF YOU! If I wasn't bolted to this piece of crap, I'd snatch off all your damned heads and 

squee-e-e-eze out the brains like sauce! And I'll SEE YOU IN SATAN'S PALACE! 

BWA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA...!" His loud and obnoxious shout echoed off the old 

warehouse walls, walls shaded in darkness. 

_____This was a very large and very old warehouse, with damaged metal crates and 

mysterious rusting machines piled up along the walls--a place was large enough to store a 

ship from long ago. It was night-time, and there were only a few working lights here--suspended 

from the catwalks high above the floor. No one really knew what this place was used for 

originally. Rumor was, this place was probably used to store flying machine parts or 

something like that, a few centuries ago: back when humanity crafted grand machines and 

traveled in space.

_____Now this place was being used for a place of execution. Six cyborgs--bounty hunters, 

all of them--were bolted to thick metal plates and suspended upside-down. They were all 

generally silent and resigned to their fate: a humiliating death at the hands of city outlaws and 

thugs. Two of the bounty hunters had dents in their metal skulls: the obnoxious male and the

only female in the group.

_____The female was rather pretty--a feminine alloyed body with gentle curves executed in

metal, a smooth synthetic face, long silky blue hair hanging down. But now there was a 

slight concave gash in the left side of her forehead, showing a bit of the dented metal skull 

beneath. A pinkish fluid dripped from her ears, and her breath was ragged. It wasn't a 

problem: She would be dead soon. 

_____She swallowed hard, gasped a few breaths and said something: her dying words. 

"Do you hear...him? HE is coming... I welcome him." Her artificial eyes glinted in the weak 

warehouse lighting. "HE is coming for us all."

_____Nine handguns took aim, followed by the sharp CRACK-CRACK-CRACK of

gunfire. The muzzle flashes filled up the space with light and sound and chaos as the armored

bodies of the bounty hunters were all shot up. Their bodies, bolted to those metal platforms,

gushed both blood and sparks. 

_____When it was over, the enforcers put away their handguns. These so-called "criminals"

were all dressed in uniform black business suits, all of the same height. Their exposed metal 

hands were the only sure signs of them being cyborgs as their well-tailored clothing covered

everything else--synthetic flesh for faces and polymer strands for hair.

_____They stopped firing... A deathly near-silence followed this execution, only violated

by the sound of the wind. "Bullets trump blades any day," said one of the enforcers. "Power 

flows from the barrel of a gun!" 

_____The upside-down female cyborg sucked in sips of air as she began to die, blood 

flowing over her face. Her dying eyes were focusing on the blurry figure standing behind the

enforcers. He was clad in blue, a blue hat on his head, and he had a rather long tool slung 

over his left shoulder. She closed her eyes.

...

1.

...

_____The deep orange-red of the coming sunrise burned on the eastern skyline. A stark 

horizon, it bordered this panoramic view of sand-scrubbed wasteland beyond the city. It was 

a vast view of flattened, wasted desolation. Somewhere out there, beyond that horizon, there 

monsters of metal working at computers. 

_____These monsters were semi-intelligent cyber-machines at work on the Network: the 

world-wide information system that ran the city, controlled its infrastructure. It controlled 

this city. Behind this Network was an almost almighty computer--too damned powerful to 

comprehend. IT controlled ALL the world's cities from its lofty position from a floating 

city--high up in the sky and far away. The monsters and the machines, they were so closely

linked and connected that they were part of the overall machine. Ruled by a computer. The

computer was named Melchezedek. 

_____The unholy master-computer in the floating city--high up in the sky--was the true and

ultimate master behind the all-powerful Network, and the robotic "deckmen" were the 

lower-level clergy and messengers of this cyber-regime. Deckmen, the cylindrical robots 

with chubby rubbery faces and chubby manipulator "hands"--were able to be installed onto 

small transportation platforms and specially built desks as needed--they performed the Zalem

machine's will. Deckmen performed many managerial duties, including helping run the 

factories on the planet's surface... 

_____And some of the most sophisticated deckmen maintained the Network. But now

the network-maintaining deckmen were becoming confused. Despite their repeated 

efforts, they could not repair a certain important connection within the Network. A very 

important connection, too: This was a link responsible for an entire sector of a city. 

_____Though these "deckmen" had human brains integrated into their circuitry, the brains

had been surgically altered and customized as needed--mutilated for the sake of the machine. 

These special network deckmen did not become "angry" whenever their attempts to repair

the connection failed. Anger was not within the hardware specifications of these special 

deckmen. In other words, they literally did not have the brains to be angry. 

_____Anyone else, anything else, would have been angry at their current situation. They tried

and tried to fix the connection. But it was a no-go! Their efforts were being confounded. 

_____So far, they tried exactly six-hundred and forty times to reconfigure that important 

electronic link. And they FAILED exactly six-hundred and forty times. To think that these 

deckmen were made exactly for the purpose of Network maintenance, and they were 

failing at their job. Perhaps these deckmen were faulty and had to be recycled. Though the 

electronics and mechanics could be recycled, the human brain matter within them would have 

to be disposed of. Well, there were always plenty of willing (and suicidal) human subjects--

willing to have their brains removed and used for the Network.

...

_____The young, dark-haired girl used her fine fingers to type out a few more commands,

stroking the keys on her bubblegum-pink keyboard. "Ha ha ha...!" she laughed, her big 

beautiful dark eyes glinting with amusement. "Jake, Joel, we're better than the computers

at using computers! Whee-e-e!" She then spun around in her swivel-chair. "Ha-ha-a! Fun!" 

The girl's name was Lissette, and she loved this job.

_____Joel was seated at the second computer workstation in this little computer lab. He 

looked over at Lissette--wonderful Lissette--sitting nearby. GOD, how beautiful she 

looked to him! Her silken dark hair cascaded straight down her slim back, combed back 

away from her pretty face: big beautiful dark eyes, and pert little features. Her body was as 

wonderful as that face, beautiful and sleek... A beautiful and athletic girl-woman's body. Her

skin was smooth and creamy--probably all over.

_____Unfortunately, that wonderful cream-pale body of hers was all covered up with 

clothes--a pink blouse and tight blue jeans. Light little shoes on her feet. Damn, she ought

to wear less.

_____But, much to Joel's delight, he noticed that her tight jeans fit like a second skin... 

And he could ALMOST see through her blouse! Mmmh, he was imagining... HUH HUH 

HUH! 

_____"Huh-huh-huh..." chuckled Jake, rapid-tapping keys at his own keyboard. Yes, 

JAKE was here too. He always was! A tousle-haired blond teen, Jake dressed his thin self 

in tee shirt and jeans every day. And it was sometimes the same tee shirt and jeans. Though 

not much to look at, he was a damned good at using various computer programming languages 

of the world-ruling Network. 

_____But that mastery of computer languages must have come at the cost of not being 

good at human communication... He was a person of very few words. "Huh--huh-huh..." For

all Joel knew, part of Jake's brain had probably already undergone the deckmen-making 

process! That would explain why he was such a good hacker. 

_____Joel himself was a decent-looking sort of young man: vaguely muscular, swarthy 

skinned, and and a habitual wearer of buttoned shirts and slacks. His dark hair was always

neatly combed, straight black above his dark-brown lean face. 

_____And right now, that face of his flashed anger at Jake. Jake was ALWAYS around. 

Jake, ALWAYS ruining a moment. One of these days, maybe something had to happen 

to Jake. Always around to ruin his chances with beautiful Lissette...

_____Lissette suddenly swirled around in her, crossing her shapely legs. "Hey Joel, if you 

weren't too busy gawking at me like a dumbed-down deckman, you'd see on your monitor 

that we've fried another one of Zalem city's damned network servers! And they won't fix 

THAT anytime soon!" She turned back to the computer. "Gosh, Joel. Always staring at 

somebody..."

_____"Huh-huh!" added Jake. He snorted, continued work hunched over his own 

keyboard--his uncombed blond hair covering his slack-jawed face. How Jake could see 

anything through that loose and crazy blond mane of his was almost beyond Joel's 

comprehension. But he COULD see, fingers went rapid-fire on the keyboard keys. 

"Huh-huh-huh..."

_____Shaking his head, Joel went back to his own work, eyeing the diagnostics information 

on the screen. Then he went to work again, fingers to keys. He was using a straight-up 

text-line interface, which meant paying attention, tapping keys, and mumbling in frustration.

_____Lissette gave a toss of her head, then used those fine slim fingers of hers to stroke 

her silken hair back. Then she continued working at her machine. Throughout this city, there

were over twenty such custom-made computer workstations--hidden beneath the streets in 

hidden underground computer labs. And they were all used for the specific purpose of 

frustrating the biger computers of the Network.

_____Though the girl had a light and wonderful attitude about most things, she had heavy

responsibilities. As the founding member and leader of The Parasol Club--this organization 

of hackers--she and her team had to daily work at hacking the Network to keep it from 

taking over this sector of this city. Because, outside of this sector of the city, the Network 

ran the cities and factory-style farms of the world. 

_____But there was not much of a world left nowadays to rule. Most of the world's lands 

were baked wasteland--ruined with toxic pollution, upset with earthquakes, and heated by 

the hotter sunny temperatures. It made for brightly heated days and changes in the ocean

level that lead to coastal flooding. The Greenhouse Effect, it was called--though the world's 

land masses weren't quite green anymore. 

_____And where the world wasn't covered with blue-green ocean or the scrubby dirt of 

the wastelands, entire regions were mechanized and industrialized. For hundreds of miles, 

landscapes were covered with concrete and decorated with gigantic metal structures with pipes 

going into the ground and and smokestacks fuming smoke into the air--all of it humming 

machinery... 

_____Of course, people had to work the machines. People lived with the machines. People 

lived alongside them, living within concrete-and-metal buildings and walking the hard streets. 

These were machine-cities.... 

_____The people who lived in these cities were almost machines themselves. Many 

people have had their bodies replaced with synthetics: metals, polymers, ceramics and 

electromechanics. By the time such processes were done, all but their brains were robotic. 

And in some cases, the "enhancements" went farther--into the brain.

_____It was the way people lived nowadays. They lived with it, going about their 

darkened lives as best as they could. Tired and exhausted, they lived on. These people 

worked the factories. These people worked the shops. And if their bodies were not 

wasted or ruined by the toxicity, some of them worked the street corners. Anything to earn

enough money to eat and live with...

_____Lissette frowned. THIS was the kind of world she "lived" in. The rulers of yesterday, 

they were to blame. Destroying the world with pollution and war-time explosions until 

there was not much world left. They ruined the world and did not clean up the aftermath. 

And then, as if that wasn't enough, they set a machine-god in a floating city to look over 

this world of.. Of...! A world of LEFTOVERS. Humanity made machines, and now machines 

conquered humanity--conquered to the point where machines infiltrated the human body.

_____Nobody's fault. The world was nobody's fault. And it would continue to be nobody's

blame to take on. This was a world that was dying and rusting--a machine that was left 

uncared for: a vast, hulking machine--a large, rusting machine that barely worked--that 

ought not work, but it did. It worked for now, though now would not be forever.

_____All the while, Lissette thought that there was no damned reason for that damned 

computer put up in the sky to make things any harder than they had to be! Human beings 

were suffering as it was. Having to work in toxic factories, breathing polluted air, living 

with the extreme heat and the cold...! And then, there was the way human beings treated 

each other. What, with all the random spates of bloody violence, was the present system 

of "law enforcement" at all useful, the usage of semi-professional bounty hunters? Damn

it, those bastards were just as nasty as the lawbreakers they were paid to kill! All of the 

pollution and pain and heat! And the computer in the sky calmly looks above it all...! 

Ooh! It just made her so MAD!

_____She clenched her fine hands into hard fists, her dark eyes glinting. Oh, how 

GLAD she was that she started the Parasol Club to hack the Network--keeping the 

Network out of THIS sector of the city. It was better to be ruled by an organized crime 

syndicate than a whacked-out ultra-computer in some damned floating city, hundreds 

of miles away. Yes, the Feng-Long Society ruled this sector of the city well, letting 

vices flow in a regulated manner--with a good understanding of human nature as they 

managed business. 

_____Joel saw the intense look on Lissette's face, saw the way she sat with back straight 

and body rigid. She looked ready to destroy someone--or something. Lissette's positive 

traits weren't limited to just good looks and savviness with computers; she was also an 

excellent kick boxer. Against cyborgs, full-flesh humans, or mutants, it didn't matter. 

_____He was once walking the uptown streets with her when a big cyborg made a grab 

at Lissette's butt, trying to cop a feel. That was a mistake. By the time Lissette was done 

with him, that cyborg had to drag--pull--himself away with his remaining functional arm. 

To think, a full-flesh human girl was able to beat a cyborg--unarmed. Lissette was really 

something. 

...

2. 

...

_____Elsewhere within this protected sector of the city, there was a rather high-classed

bar in the downtown area. During the nights, one could buy the best of drinks and have 

conversations with some of the more-influential members of this city's executive class. 

Gentle music would waft throughout the dimly lit and richly furnished place as there was 

the low murmur of conversation. 

_____But as this was morning, so all of the regular customers--executives of the Feng-Long 

Society--were away on business. The polished brown formica-topped tables gleamed from 

the chandelier-style lighting, and there were no conversationalists seated--no music being 

played. The muscular, bald bartender was here, sleeves rolled up muscular arms--cleaning 

drinking glasses behind the drinking bar.

_____There was just one "customer" here, a lithe, red-haired young woman named Sera--though 

she was as much an employee as a patron. As some executives were busy often, they seldom

had time to form firm relationships with others. That was where women like Sera came in, 

providing what was politely known as "comfort" to lonely men who needed "alleviation" for 

their--uh--pent-up stresses.

_____ Though she had been doing this job for three years now, Sera did not take on the look

women in her profession eventually developed. She did not walk around scantily clad, nor 

did she put on too much makeup. This was though other women told her that a little makeup 

and a change of outfits could really improve her income. She refused.

_____She recalled that her customers told her that she needed none of that; she had a certain 

kind of prettiness to her that didn't necessarily needed such "enhancing." Big dark eyes set in 

a pretty face, her long red hair flowed down her slim back--almost down to the double curves 

of her firm hips. She dressed her beautiful body in simple clothing--sleeveless blouse and 

knee-length skirt. Her clients knew what to look for; they had heard of her, ah... "Talent." 

_____Yes, she had "talent!" Ha-ha...! She gave a bitter little laugh, stopped when the bartender

looked at her. But he left her alone to her troubles. As one of the topmost prostitutes, she was a 

valuable asset to the Feng-Long Society. To think, she even saw herself as just being meat 

sometimes. Like now. Meat--sexy flesh. Maybe she was just something that the bored executives 

fucked and paid. Not that she found her job too uncomfortable; it was easy after the first few times. 

It just felt degrading--a prolonged and slow humiliation. 

_____"Hey Sera... You alright there?" asked the bartender, standing nearby. He carefully set 

down one of the drinking mugs he'd been cleaning. "I like serving drinks to customers, but not

up to when they're DROWNING." He looked around. "You know what? I don't like to see 

pretty young ladies looking all sad."

_____"Yes, I'm pretty, aren't I?" she said, a look of disguist on her face--as if the word "pretty" 

tasted nasty. "Funny, I'm feeling a little bit anti-pretty. A little dirty. I don't feel like this all 

of the time, of course. Just...sometimes." She crossed her legs the other way, adjusting her 

perching seat atop her stool. "Maybe if some bastards thought my parents were just as pretty,

they wouldn't have... Oh, never mind. It's not your problem." 

_____The bartender shook his head. He knew about Sera. He knew about how things were for 

her. About what happened to too many people--around the time that the Network was disconnected 

from this sector. There was an extremely tough adjustment time for a while--riots, murders and 

whatnot...until people became wise to the fact that the Feng-Long Society wouldn't tolerate that 

sort of behavior in this sector of the city. That was why they hired enforcers. Also, the threat of 

being sent outside, out to any of the bordering Network-run sectors, was enough to keep people

in line. 

...

_____At another bar, a significantly rougher-looking drinking place, some other people were

drinking--plenty of people. No music playing, but the din of conversation would have covered

up the music anyway. 

_____"Ain't had enough yet..." said Carbon, the big cyborg in work-clothes, his round-tanked

metal belly bulging within his coveralls. The expression on his chubby artificial face was bland, a 

look of boredom. So he reached down to the plate in front of him, his left metal hand closing over 

a meaty hamburger. What kind of meat? Well, you didn't ask that sort of question. "Damn, these 

burgers got NO taste to 'em." Munch-munch-munch... BELCH!

_____Someone else at this restaurant table laughed--a skinny cyborg in a tailored business suit. 

"Ha-ha-ha...! Are you, you know... YOU KNOW!" He looked around, then spoke in a low 

and conspirational tone. "Are you HUNGRY? Ha-ha! YOU KNOW! YOU KNOW! That other 

cyborg elbowed the third one seated at this table. "Is he HUNGRY?"

_____"Quit it, Rafter!" went the next cyborg--one in floppy clothes. He was named Gale.

"Anyway... Yeah, sounds like you're HUNGRY," he agreed. "So, when do we, uh, EAT? I 

want a little extra something to eat, too." 

_____The skinny cyborg grimaced. "HEE-HA! But I REFUSE to eat off of the street! I want 

some real home food! The kind that's in homes!"

_____Big Carbon shrugged. "Alright. I hear you. We can go for some real home cookin'. Just 

step on in and grab some bites to eat. Fresh meat--really fresh meat, y'all. The kinda' meat 

that's so damned FRESH that it ain't even headed for the store shelves yet." 

_____"But... Hee-hee! Wouldn't it be great if that kind of meat WAS?" chuckled Rafter.

"Oh yes, it really would be convenient, having that sort of meat on the shelves. Then we 

wouldn't have to go out and catch. it. And the quality would be more..."

_____"Nope, NOW you're goin' too danged far, buddy," interrupted the big-bellied cyborg.

"We get our eats as we get 'em. Ain't got no problems with the pickin's in this here city. Know

what I mean? Now let's go GET some."

...

_____Sera's walk home was extremely lonely and disorienting. She managed to stay generally

straight and balanced as she walked along the downtown sidewalk, staying near the center. 

But sometimes, she would swoon and swerve. A shake of her head, and she would move on. 

No, it wasn't just slight intoxication; it was exhaustion.

_____As usual, she had gone almost the entire night without sleep. She had to keep her client 

entertained, and he took plenty of entertaining to keep occupied. Damn, did those bastards 

take stimulant pills before they came to her? Dumb question, of COURSE they did. They took

all sorts of wake-up pills to stay awake and active! Hell, all the drugs were legal in this sector 

of the city--even the ones few people had ever even heard of.

_____Maybe she should try some. Some kind of stimulant... Caffeine? Rush pills? But Sera

didn't want to risk damaging herself. She was lucky enough to still have a real body. All of

her was real. But if she were to become sick, if the level of toxic contamination within her 

body were to reach a certain point, she would have to...

_____She had to stop walking for a second, swaying on her feet. No, Sera did not want to 

become a cyborg. Having a real body was the only way she could make money now. And, 

damn it, she was GOOD at what she did. One of the best! If her body was injured, then 

there would be surgery to replace flesh parts with artificial ones.

_____She could not have that! Taking a deep breath of the city air, she coughed once--and 

moved on. Though the sidewalk seemed to sway as she walked, the red-haired girl managed

not to fall over. By now, she should be used to this. She wasn't. Walking the sidewalk after

too much time without sleep never really became easier. 

_____Then, the wind began to blow more. It seemed to make a rushing hush throughout here

and the nearby street. It was really how-w-wling... Whoop! She was nearly knocked over,

the wind whipping at her hair and clothes. What a damned nasty breeze.

_____But then, for just a moment, Sera felt something was very wrong. Something was not 

right with everything. Nausea swirling in her head, she stopped for a moment at a street corner.

Putting a hand to a streetlamp, she thought back. Was there anything she had forgotten?

Was there anything wrong? Was anything SAID to be going wrong? No...

_____No, not at all. She could remember nothing about anything being wrong. Nothing 

should have been wrong. She served another client, and then she would collect her share of 

the fee from Mr. Yin. This should just feel like another day, really. So why did she feel the 

way she did? No reason. Just another one of those moments. 

_____So she walked on, the wind still pulling at her hair and blowing in her ears. It was a weird

kind of headache: a screaming headache! It felt as if there were hundreds of invisible people all

howling and screaming from very far away. No, this had to be a side-effect of the pills she'd 

taken to stay awake--or try to stay awake. And the pills weren't working anymore.

_____"Uh-h-h!" she grunted, her hands going to her head. Another swirling wave of 

sickening dizziness hit her, and she nearly fainted--unconsciousness threatening to overcome 

her brain. No, it would not be good to fall to the sidewalk--where strangers would do things 

to her body while she was out. Though recognized as an important resource of the Feng-Long 

society, that protection only went so far. 

_____She may be just property. But oh, she was VALUABLE property! "Ha ha ha..." she 

laughed, feeling somewhat better. Squinting against the swirling sickness in her head, she 

looked right and left. Yes, it seemed safe to cross this street. So, she did. And she went the

rest of the way back to her apartment.

_____Someone was watching Sera. Unseen, this observer followed the red-haired girl as she

continued to walk the city sidewalk. With the wind blowing the way it was, Sera would not 

be able to hear who was following--unless... No, that was not a worry. This observer would

not be seen unless he wanted to be. But if Sera were able to listen well enough, she would 

hear him.

_____She did not. She was not able to hear the presence of whatever--or whoever--was 

following her as she made her way home. If Sera were to run into any trouble, this observer 

was to NOT interfere. What he would do was clean up certain things and take things away. 

He was, after all, the Janitor. 

...

3.

...

_____This apartment building was on the edge of the downtown area--a tall and wide building

with a gabled red roof. On one side, balconies oversaw the streets from all the floors. 

Though not outrageously expensive, the apartments here were quite pricey. The price of rent 

was beyond the affordability of most workers; the renters here were primarily low-level 

executives and middle-managers of the Feng-Long Society. 

_____But Sera had the money to live here, money from the work she did. That was what 

mattered. That she was seen as a valued asset was another reason for her being able to live 

here. At the double-doored entrance, she stepped in--coming into the shiny floored foyer. 

Though feeling dead-tired, she waved a greeting at the blue-suited concierge at the right--

sitting behind his office window set in the wall. 

_____She went to the elevator and stepped in, thinking about how lonely and slow the 

concierge's job was--keeping the entranceway clear of potential troublemakers and keeping

it clean. He usually read newsprints to pass the time. Still, it must be a slow job. 

_____The elevator hummed to a halt, opening on the third floor. Her apartment was a few 

doors to the left. Just some more walking to go. Body aching and head dizzy, and she could

rest until around noon. It was still the weekday, and she wouldn't be able to meet her 

family's greetings. Her family loved her, but... Just so tired... 

_____Coming to the door, she clicked the right sequence of numbers on the mechanical 

combination pad to unlock her apartment door, and she was able to open it. Beyond the 

door was the carpeted luxury of home. 

...

_____A nice apartment, this was a nice place. There was a living room here, when one first 

came in. Well-furnished, with two armchairs, a couch, and a radio set against the 

painting-decorated pale-blue walls. The kitchenette was past one of the doors, over across

the room. As for the bathrooms and two bedrooms, one would just go left and walk through

a short hallway at the side. 

_____Her little brother and sister, along with the nanny, were in the kitchenette...who came 

RUNNING out and into the living room. Both were small and elfin-faced, blonde: fraternal 

twins, boy and girl. Unusual, since Sera herself was a natural red-head. Not much older than 

four years old, it was very difficult to tell the difference between the two--Jefty and Jane.

_____These little twins wrapped their arms around her legs--because that was as high as they 

could reach. "SERA! SERA! You're HOME! YAY...!" they cheered, loving it whenever

she came back. Because, they were always afraid that there would come a day when she 

wouldn't return.

_____A big wide matronly woman came strutting out of the kitchenette, her brown hair tied 

up in a functional hairdo, her billowing pink clothes neat and wrinkle-free. She was Martha,

the nanny that watched--and even tutored--the children while Sera was gone...which was most

of the day. This big friendly woman came walking over to here, a look of sadness on her face. 

"Hello, Miss Sera. You must be tired, as usual. There's a nice big cup of hot coffee and..."

_____"No, Martha. I just want to sleep..." said Sera, stooping slightly to touch the small

shoulders of her little brother and sister. They wriggled with glee and hugged tighter. But she

had to gently push their hugs away. "Jefty and Jane... I love you, but please let me sleep... I'm

so tired."

_____Wide-eyed and respectful, the two small children stepped back--hands folded. Not 

that Sera had ever struck them in anger or punishment, they still respected her wishes. They 

did not know exactly what Sera did to earn her money, but they just knew that she worked

very hard for them.

_____And she hoped they never knew what she had to do for money. Nodding once, she 

began stepping towards the way to her bedroom--staggering. Martha rushed to help. Sera 

had to be led to her own door and into her own bed. The young lady was asleep as soon as 

her body laid atop the bed. A deep sleep... She heard nothing but an ususual sound of wind

from an oncoming dream.

...

_____Sera believed that she had lied down in bed. She THOUGHT that she was going to sleep.

No, something else was now happening. Instead of lying down, Sera felt herself being carried

somewhere else... But where? And who was taking her? How was she being carried? And

why was it so dark? She was going somewhere... Somewhere else.

_____She then felt solid flooring beneath her shoes. But she could not see around. No, that

wasn't right. If she stared hard enough, some things were visible--just barely. There were 

indistinguishable shapes and figures in the very dim lighting of this strange room. Some of 

those shapes resembled people. Were they people? Or were they statues. 

_____FLICK! A white spotlight suddenly a bright circle in this darkness, revealing what 

looked to be a circular table, made out of wood. It was a deep rich brown color, shiny

and polished. Just outside of the spotlight, there were two seats. But, set so far back from 

the table itself, the seats must not have been placed for dining. Then came the sounds.

_____Was someone sweeping the floor? It was that whispery sweeping sort of sound--the slight 

swish-swish of a broom sweeping across a polished and shiny floor. Sera imagined the broom's 

brush of bristles moving effortlessly across the solid surface. It sounded like wind. And the sound 

was coming from beyond that table.

_____Stepping into the spotlight was a very strong-looking man in blue work clothes--blue 

coveralls and buttoned work shirt, brown shoes on his feet. The bill of his blue soft cap 

shadowed his face. His strong-veined hands clutched the broomstick hoisted over his right

shoulder. And he stood there by the table, standing in the light.

_____If there were sweeping sounds, then who was sweeping? The sounds of sweeping were

coming from the Janitor's direction. But no one else seemed to have a broom. What was 

going on here? Why was this happening? Something was very, very wrong here...

_____"Ha-ha-ha-a-a...!" came a melodic laugh, a beautiful woman's careless laugh. There 

was a sudden RUSH of air. Suddenly, someone was standing atop the circular brown table--

a woman dressed in white gown. "You don't know why, but you will know what!" declared

the pale woman.

_____As Sera's eyes adjusted, she could see that the woman was not entirely covered in white

cloth. Rather, the gown was the same color of her smooth, pale skin. The gown was actually 

silken and sleeveless, flowing over the woman's slender figure. Her pale-blonde hair was 

combed as so it framed her sharp-featured face. But the eyes... Large red eyes regarded 

Sera. 

_____"I know of the cinnamon." said that strange-eyed woman standing atop the table. She 

spread out her pale slender arms, fingers outstretched. "I know of where the cinnamon flows 

locally. And, oh HOW it will flow."

_____Sera would have shaken her head, but she did not want to seem rude. Somehow, she

had the idea that this woman was extremely important. "Excuse me? I don't understand. 

What do you mean? Cinnamon? Is someone hungry?"

_____"Ha-ha-ha!" laughed the pale woman before talking more nonsense. "People are hungry." 

Her voice deepened, taking on a more more sinister tone. "And then, they bring the cinnamon 

to darken what you have. A far sprinkling for all of what you are in, of what you are." She 

smiled. "Did you not know that oatmeal can have hunger as well?"

_____"I still do not understand..." insisted Sera. "Why are we talking about food?" Looking

into those big staring red orbs was somewhat unsettling, but she kept eye contact. "Please,

tell me what you mean."

_____CRACK! The Janitor STRUCK the hard floor with the tip of his broomstick. The 

sound was surprisingly loud. Though his face wasn't quite clear, being shadowed by his hat, 

he seemed angry by the question. Maybe, Sera should be more careful with what she said. 

_____"I say what it will mean," insisted the woman in white. "But what I say is not just in the

sounds. It's in what I'm saying, not the way I sound... Ha-ha-ha!" She pointed to Sera. "Your

bowl is not the only one to be damaged. You will need a shallow gray pan soon, but it will 

hold what you have." 

_____"A gray pan?" asked Sera. There was something in what the woman there said. But 

she didn't quite get it. These were verbal riddles that she would just have to figure out. And 

if she did...

_____"Back through the breeze!" declared that pale woman standing atop the table. The 

Janitor then began moving in this direction. He shifted his broom over to his left shoulder as 

his right hand reached towards Sera--and everything went dark. The sound of wind blowing...

...

_____She sat up! Looking around, her breathing slowly relaxed. This was her bedroom. This 

was not that dark and strange "other" place she had dreamed about. Yes, it was just a dream.

But it seemed so REAL. Sera remembered everything there as if she had actually left and

went to that place. It WAS a dream, she insisted silently to herself. Just a dream. Trouble 

was, no dream she had before was so damned clear. Well, being awake, she had to go see

Mr. Yin.

...

4.

... 

_____That same trio of cyborgs--Gale, Rafter and Carbon--were now sitting on the couch of an 

apartment. They had beer bottles in their hands and looks of satisfied stupor on their bloodied 

synthetic faces. The large-bellied one in coveralls belched, swigged a bit from his beer bottle, 

then snorted. "Damn, it ain't good to eat like this ALL the time... But when we do eat like 

this... Look out, world!" BELCH! "Whoo-wee!"

_____Seated to his left was Rafter, dressed in his business suit. He licked his red-dipped metal 

fingers. "Hee-hee-hee! It's fine domestic cooking. Hee-hee! Oops, we didn't COOK them, 

did we? Just ate those suckers RAW!"

_____By "them," the skinny one was talking about the people they had eaten--or mostly eaten. 

Now, what had once been a human couple was now a bloody, chunky low pile of mutilated 

remains set in front of this couch. And the remains were barely recognizable as human 

now. Most all of the skin and meat had been removed from the two torsoes, male and female both.

The limbs had been torn away, similarly chewed and mutilated. The long, thick and ropey intestines 

were drawn out from the abdomens--from when the three cyborgs had went for the meatier organs. 

_____"God-DAMN! What a feast!" loudly declared Gale, dressed in his floppy clothes. 

"Ha-ha-a-a! Ever notice how old people taste a little bit like factory smoke and watery 

hamburger meat? It weird, you know?" He leaned forward from the couch to take a chunk

from the dead pile of meat, chewed on it. Followed that up with a hit of beer from his bottle.

"Yeah, I think the taste's there..."

_____"Quit bein' a dumb-ass," said the big-bellied cyborg in work clothes. "It's the BEER

that tastes like that, you shit-for-brains! You know how it is... Most everybody drinks the damned

CONTAMINATED liquid mess bottled down here. An' those old folks we just ate must've 

been drinkin' it for years." He paused. "The stuff normally sent up to Zalem is clean... Well, 

mostly clean." 

_____"Yeah, but who ever said we send OUR stuff up to 'em!" said the skinny one. He held 

up his current bottle of beer, the body of the bottle smeared with drying, darkened blood. "Of 

course, we important people don't hafta' drink the damned nasty local stuff. Bleah!" Swish...

THUMP! He bounced the beer bottle off the low pile of dead meat. "Before we ate those 

freaks, they should've bought some REAL beer."

_____"What the fuck?" went the big cyborg. "I know we just ate 'em. But, DAMN! Have 

some respect for the dead. Would you want somebody disrespectin' YOUR fuckin' corpse like

that? Throwin' beer bottles an' all!" BU-R-R-RP! 

_____The living room door opened. There stood a plain-faced, brown-haired man in wrinkled

tee-shirt and blue jeans. Though stained with chemicals, the clothes were clean. And there he

stood. Not moving.

_____Apparently, the scene was taking a little while for the newcomer's shaken mind to process. 

He saw three bloodied strangers sitting on his parents' couch--one of the strangers skinny, the next 

one in floppy clothes, and the third being really big and hefty. In front of them was a pile of meat. 

But only one kind of meat could take on shapes of that sort. And that looked to be about two 

torsoes mixed in with other chunks of flesh... Two dead, here. That meant... That meant he had 

chosen to visit his parents at a very bad time. 

_____"GRAB THAT ASS!" shouted the great big cyborg. The skinny one and the floppy 

clothes one both moved wind-fast, getting their metal hands on the man standing at the doorway. 

They SNATCHED the newcomer into here. The big one slammed the door while his two partners 

began tearing at the man, horrible and bloody sounds of ripping and grunting of clothes and flesh.

_____"We ain't ordered any food delivery, but it looks like some came anyway!" said big Carbon.

"Comin' in all LATE! We ain't payin' you, guy! In fact, we're gonna take the pay--outta your 

hide! Haw-haw-haw...!" 

_____The look of shock on the man's face was slowly fading as his body was being ripped. 

There was no neatness at all to the way he was being killed, having entire pieces of meat just 

being ripped from his body and limbs. But he was caring less and less. There seemed to be no 

pain now, just a slow acceptance of his oncoming death. If the parents that raised him were dead, 

then maybe he did not want to be alive, either. He could hear a gentle wind as he sank into 

death. 

_____"Look at this!" ranted Rafter, kneeling clutching and shaking a chunk of the man's flesh. 

"THIS is good quality meat, probably some mid-level factory working flunky. And he came 

AFTER we ate. That's timing for you! Argh!" Thwunch! He swung a punch at the dead man's 

jaw, which collapsed from the hit. Flesh and bone is weaker than metal.

_____"Yeah, bad timing," added Carbon, walking around to the left side of the dead man. He

booted the bloodied torso. "Makes me wonder why the Hell the execs don't have better food

available for all of the citizens. It'd make for better pickings--even off the street."

_____"Huh, probably..." went Carbon. "But I ain't gonna be the one proposin' ideas. What 

we're doin' is a little bit naughty, anyhow. Don't want people gettin' any ideas." He shrugged.

But we done had our fill...for now.

_____"Hee-hee-he-eea-a! HELL yeah!" agreed skinny Rafter. "Makes me wonder about 

what we're gonna eat the next time we do somethin' like this." He looked down at the red-ruined 

corpse of the brown-haired man. "And you know what? I'm tired of eating low-classed working

trash. Their bodies are so damned contaminated from working the local factories that they all have

that chemical sort of taste to 'em. Especially in their kidneys!" He stepped away from the dead

body. "Why can't I get a really good hunk of liver?" He then quickly crouched down by the 

face of the corpse, shouted into that dead-eyed stare. "YOU! Why can't you people keep 

your livers from tasting so nasty? HUH? If you weren't already dead, I'd KILL you! Just 

because I think you'd taste nasty!"

_____"Buddy, give the dead man a break!" chided Carbon. At times, he felt the need to 

keep his two partners from losing their self-control. "He's alread deader than a dog's corpse in

a meat grinder. What more do you want from'em, huh?"

_____"I want him to STOP STARING! Yech!" blurted Rafter. He then removed two fingers from

a dead hand and stuck them in the eyeballs. Now, the two severed fingers protruded from the eye 

sockets like the eyestalks of a snail. 

_____"Now THAT was uncalled for," continued Carbon. "We just had our fill, and we ate what

we wanted to eat. No more than that... Heh-heh... Didn't your mamma ever tell you not to play 

with your food?"

_____Rafter took on an angry look. "Carbon, what the fuck is WRONG with you today? 

You've always been preachy. Now you're all about making sermons, speeches and shit. Since

when did guilt ever stop us from having a little fun with the little people? Besides, we're 

ENFORCERS! We're the attack dogs of the Feng Long Society. They EXPECT us to 

get a little vicious with with the locals ever so often! It keeps these full-flesh bastards in 

line." He looked around. "Since there aren't any God-damned bounty hunters in this 

sector of the city, who the fuck else is going to keep the shit-bag losers in line? US! 

We're the lawmen! What the..." 

_____Thwack...CRASH! A mighty swing of Carbon's right fist, an uppercut, and Rafter was 

knocked up--close to the ceiling. He came back down--landing on his wild-haired head. He

blinked hard, trying to see through the ringing pain from the blow.

_____"Shit-brain! Don't you EVER get in my face again! I say what I wanna say, and skinny

fuck-ups like you can't stop me! In fact, don't even TRY to stop me! If I want your opinion,

I'll beat it into you! Get me? Or do you need a little more correction?"

_____Getting up slowly to a kneeling position, Rafter looked up at the mountainous, 

big-bellied cyborg. For a time, there were no words said. There was the sound of wind 

outside, blowing outside of the door--a howling sort of wind. 

_____"Jeez! Alright, alright! I gotcha! But did you have to hit me so hard? I swear, I'd 

think you were trying to kill me! Hee-hee-hee...!"

_____Carbon shrugged. "Hmmph. You're really asking for it, asshole. And you'll be asking for 

some MORE if you try me one more time, buddy." He looked over to Gale, standing near this 

wall. "What's up with you?"

_____Gale stepped away from the wall. "I thought I heard somebody else outside... Footsteps.

Footsteps mixed with the sound of the wind. Like somebody was walking nearby or something.

Know what I mean?"

_____"What the fuck?" went Carbon. "That's crazy talk! I ain't heard NOTHIN'! And Rafter

ain't heard nothin' either! Ain't that right, bitch?" He saw Rafter give quick and silly nods of 

agreement. "See? Even my trained asshole here ain't heard shit. And assholes are good at

hearing shit!"

_____"No..." said Gale, a worried look on his face. "Something was wrong with those footsteps.

Something was up with that guy. I just got this feeling... Like somebody was coming to get 

us and regulate us."

_____"HEE-HEE!" giggle Rafter. "I think you should stop smoking all of that crazy mess 

they sell at the bars! Some of that stuff will fuck up parts of your brain permanently... And 

you can't buy a new brain..." He paused. "Nah, my mistake! You CAN buy a new brain! 

Of course, the new brain wouldn't necessarily be YOU--just a replacement chip. But in 

your case, who'd know the difference?"

_____"Listen to me, man! I'm SERIOUS!" said Gale. "I got this feeling that somebody's 

been starting to watch us. But now, that feeling is REALLY getting into me. It's really damned

strong now."

_____"FEELINGS!" sang Rafter. "FEELINGS! NOTHING BUT FEELINGS... MAKE 

ME FEEL WARM INSIDE!" Thwack! A back-handed slap from a metal hand! "Aw damn, 

Carbon! You didn't have to HIT me! Ya just could've told me to shut up."

_____"Okay. Shut up," said Carbon. "Gale. For once, Rafter's right. Maybe it's some of 

the...stuff you use. How long have you been fooling with some of that crazy mess? Two years? 

Three years? "

_____"Six years," corrected Gale, "as far as I can remember. Started doing some stuff when

I first became a cyborg. But none of it was serious. None of it's addictive. Just exploration."

_____"Hah! 'Exploration' my ass!" countered Carbon. "About the only thing you'll be exploring

is the inside of a trash can when they throw out your drugged up, fucked up brain and recycle 

your body for parts!" 

_____"Yeah! Hee-hee!" giggled Rafter. "Just hope they let you keep your eyeballs when 

they toss you into the trash! Can't do any real exploring if you don't know where you are!"

WHACK! "God-damn! That HURT like a mother-fucker... Do it again!"


	2. Chapter 2: Something is Happening

The Cinnamon Horizon 

by Elliot Bowers

Chapter 2: Something is Happening...

1. 

...

_____When the Feng Long Society took over this sector of the city, it was 

sure to occupy the proudest buildings. The Society straight to the very structures 

that housed the power infrastructure of the Network: the cyber-equipment, the 

Deckmen, all of that. This was not an act of conceit; this was an act of symbolism: 

By taking over the grand buildings that housed the local offices of the Network, the 

executives of the Society were literally putting themselves in the seats of power.

_____The cyber-equipment was removed to make way for Feng Long offices 

and facilities, and most of the Deckmen were properly disposed of. Well, some were 

kept in executive offices as amusing talking pets--disconnected from the Network, 

of course. Better than parrots--since parrots were, as far as anyone here knew,

extinct. 

_____One of the occupied office building was where Sera's employer based his 

own business operations. A three-story structure, its exterior was done up in gray 

marble. Tinted glass gleamed in the bright afternoon sunlight. She passed into the 

shadow of the building to get inside. 

_____"Hello there, Sera!" said the green-eyed blonde seated behind the reception 

desk, waving with a white-gloved right hand--a smile on her face... Hmm, yes, that 

pretty face of hers was synthetic, and her dress clothes hid her metal body from 

the neck down. Dressed that way, she could pass for a full-flesh human. "Right 

on time, as usual! You can just go right up. Mr. Yin isn't too busy today, so he

should be ready to speak to you right away... Hmm... Gosh! You look tired. 

What's up?" 

_____"No more tired than usual, Janet," said Sera, shrugging once. "Glad to hear 

that Mr. Yin isn't too occupied..." She then stepped towards the left elevator. 

_____The elevator, not the stairs! Sera would not have been allowed to use the 

stairs. Oh, no! Mr. Yin would not be pleased to hear of one of his most valued 

employees taking the manual way! Though he had high standards for his workers, 

he treated them honorably.

_____Going up... This elevator ride came to an end. The elevator doors opened, 

and she came to a corridor that stretched to the left and right. Before her was the 

set of double doors leading to an executive's office--guarded by a pair of seven-

foot guards in basic black business attire. They glanced down at her, nodded, and 

opened the doors. 

...

_____She went in, entering the vast space. The office had the grand size of a 

small theater, along with some of the grandeur to match: dark-green marble floor, 

with preserved paintings arranged along the left and right walls. Across the wide-

open space, at the other end, was a polished wooden desk--behind which sat a 

bald, golden-skinned thin man in a dark suit. Newsprint was atop his desk, what 

he was reading.

_____Small dark shoes silently padding, Sera walked across the hard, shiny floor. 

It took a moment to get over to the desk. When she finally did arrived there, she 

bowed her head slightly and clasped her hands in front of herself. "Good afternoon, 

Mr. Yin. I hope that business remains well." 

_____"Ah, and good greetings to you, Miss Sera," responded Mr. Yin. He placed 

both his lean hands atop the desk. "As usual, you have pleased yet another client. 

Your work is consistent, which is good. Better yet, your work is consistently good. 

If all of those in your profession of your level of physical talent, then the overall... 

MOOD within this sector would be markedly improved."

_____"Thank you, Mr. Yin," said Sera, head still bowed. "But I am just doing 

what you pay me to do. I don't really try to be as good as you say I am."

_____"But you ARE, and it shows in the high praise given you by our clientele," 

he said simply and plainly. "And, that is why I have considered putting you into 

a position of better status. I do not run this branch of the Society by myself, as 

you know. There are those in more local offices who better oversee daily operations 

on the lower levels. And, you could be one of them, overseeing business

as so the services become of better quality. But this is nothing I have not offered 

you before. Do you still say no to it? You could continue your line of work, but 

with a much more friendly schedule..."

_____"No thank you, sir," answered Sera. "I am satisfied with where I am now. 

With the job I have." 

_____That was the truth. She did not want any more responsibility or involvement 

than was necessary. She didn't have the willpower or the confidence to take on any 

sort of administrative position within the Society. Her job was tiring enough.

_____Mr. Yin nodded twice. "I believe I see why you wish to hold off on your 

well-deserved promotion... Is it that you feel that taking on a higher position 

would take you away from your family? Personal reasons?"

_____"Yes, you are right, Mr. Yin," answered Sera. "Personal reasons. I have 

personal reasons. I do not wish to offend you by refusing the offer. Thank you for 

thinking so kindly of me."

_____"You are welcome, Miss Sera," said Mr. Yin. "In fact, that is why I have you

personally come to my office... Because I value you so as an employee. " He 

tapped the intercom device at the side of his desk, said into it, "Janet, have Sera's 

pay ready." Closing the connection, he addressed Sera again. "Well, that is almost 

all that I would have to say to you..." He leaned slightly forward. "Is there anything 

you would wish to say to me? Any problems or concerns?"

_____"No... No, thank you," answered Sera. She was now becoming uncomfortable. 

"I thank you for the attention and care you show me. And, if you please, I will 

further think about the offer."

_____"Yes, please do," said Mr. Yin. "As usual, Janet will have your pay waiting 

for you at the front desk. Keep up your good work." And, that was the end of this 

meeting.

_____Sera gently turned and began walking away--towards the double doors 

at the other end of this grand office. She opened one of the double doors and walked 

out. The doors closing quietly behind her. She would take the elevator down to the first 

floor, getting a purse--inside of which would be carefully rolled sets of credit-chips--

more money for her cache. It was taking care of that family of hers.

_____And Mr. Yin remained here, thinking about the young miss, the newsprint on 

his desk. Well, there was always something to think on nowadays. He did not have a 

large workload; the Feng Long Society was very likely the best employer in the 

world. Maybe that was true because the Society was run by human beings, not a 

damned computer in a floating city hundreds of miles away. The world situation had 

to change one of these days...

____Things in the world, the whole world, seemed ready to change now. According 

to some sidebar articles in the Network news-prints, there were going to be some 

"slight technical difficulties" with the rest of the worldwide network. Steps were 

going to be taken to redouble control in weakened sectors. That would mix very, very 

well with some very tasty rumors brought in by Society members who took scouting trips 

outside of this sector--rumors, coalesced into unofficial rumor sheets.

____The golden-skinned executive leaned back slightly as so he could open up a top 

drawer. He had kept some select articles of such exclusive print. Out of the desk came 

a manila-and-cloth folder, where he had stored certain articles of particular interest. 

Of very tasty interest pertaining to certain tasty rumors. 

_____According to an article out of last week's rumor sheets, there would be 

haphazard and random "technical difficulties" for the next few weeks. Something 

was happening up in the floating City of Zalem, and it did not sound good. Or it 

DID sound good--depending on one's particular personal perspective. Dead bodies 

were coming down the chute from Zalem--as if that damned master computer was 

trying to get rid of people in a hurry. Or some other faction wanted to get rid 

of corpses... And then, there was an increased demand for salvaged cyber-

equipment: Network switch-boxes, computer workstations and monitors, equipment 

of that sort. 

_____Mr. Yin nodded. That could mean two things. One, it could mean the damned 

Network was finally suffering the sort of breakdown that low-knowledge maintenance 

could no longer fix--and the replacement equipment requested was desperately 

needed. Two, it could also mean that the conceited and frilly bastards who lived 

up there in Zalem were finally having a few breaths of social instability-- interfering 

with Network operations. Now back up that idea with the number bloody corpses 

that came tumbling down the disposal chutes from the city...

_____Only if! Only if this analysis was true! Those would be technical difficulties, 

indeed! Because the cities were made to run like machines, it was inevitable that 

the cities would break. All machines break down, eventually. Even the machines 

that make the machines break at some point in time, however look it took. 

_____Across the office, the double doors opened again. In walked a dark-haired, 

plain-faced figure wearing a black business suit--the standard executive 

uniform. He had a thin folder with him, holding newsprint--carefully clutched in 

his left metal hand. He was one of Mr. Yin's messengers. But he was back early; 

the news could not be good.

_____The messenger stopped before Mr. Yin's desk; he bowed his head once. "Good 

afternoon, sir. I have information for you. It is not urgent information, but you may 

want to take a look at it." He placed the thin folder atop the desk and stepped back.

_____Mr. Yin opened the folder: just six sheets of print. Rumor sheets. For the next 

few minutes, he found and read circled articles in the printed pages. The messenger 

was correct: the information was important, but it would not require his immediate 

action--if he could take any action at all from his position.

_____This was about the appearance of yet another "mysterious stranger" in this

sector of the city. They were once thought to be Network spies, sent in to investigate

the anti-Network occurrences here. But the Parasol Club had hacked the Network in

such a way that this sector should have ceased to exist within the databases of the

Network. That is, unless that damned ultra-computer up in Zalem was more capable 

than they believed...

_____"Hmm... So, we have another one," he said aloud. He read another rumor-sheet 

article. "According to this one, this newcomer is certainly not an agent of trouble. But 

he seems to be there after something happens. After the fact, so to speak." He tapped 

the paper. "This is the sixth time we have had mysterious strangers appear in our sector 

of town-possibly bounty hunters who have somehow wandered into here. Bounty 

hunters, we can kill: just send enforcers. Unlike them, WE can use guns when necessary, 

not that we have too many guns of the kind that can kill metal-bodied cyborgs. Guns or

no guns, these mysterious strangers are somewhat disturbing!"

_____"Yes, sir," agreed the messenger. "Sir, if you recall, the last stranger to 

appear wore a sort of cloaking cape--and he was very hard to see. The previous 

'strangers' were probably just hallucinations. But this latest one seems the 

most solid. Sir, it is odd how the rumor sheets seem to have named this stranger 

'The Janitor.'"

_____Mr. Yin eyed one of the articles. "That would fit, as this 'Janitor' is 

indeed described as a strong working man of maintenance and cleanup. Unsettling, 

how he appears at scenes of harsh and brutal murders. Violence happens. More 

unsettling, how is it that NO ONE has been able to follow him? Has no one seen 

where these strangers sleep?" A pause. "Thank you for this information. I will 

be glad to share this with my fellow administrators at the next Society meeting." 

. . .

2.

. . .

_____The girl stood against someone--or something--almost twice her height and ten 

times her weight. That "someone" was a real monster of a cyborg--a hulking being with

a body of metal and electro-mechanics. And that metal monster's fists did not look

like the sort to caress and care for anything. Hell, they looked more like construction

tools. Yes, great big metal shovel-hands, made of titanium alloy--with reinforced 

joints. The arms to which the hands were attached were arms the thickness of 

telephone poles. And the body was as wide as a diesel-powered bulldozer , hardened 

annealed steel all around the chest and legs. Atop that massive body it was a bald 

head that looked a bit too small for the body, a head wearing no less than a red knit 

hat and darkened sunglasses. Not being able to see the eyes, that was probably the 

most dehumanizing.

_____As for the much smaller dark-haired girl, she looked as if she could hold out--

against a human attacker. Dressed in a white tank top and loose black shorts, a person

could she had that sort of lean and athletic physique of an experienced kickboxer--strong, 

shapely legs, a flat strong abdomen, and finely muscled arms. Her unusually pale skin, the

skin left exposed by her outfit, made her musculature seem carved in bas-relief. She had 

red hard shoes on her feet, and had wrapped burlap cloth around her fists. 

_____But if those cute red shoes or wrapped hands of those could do any sort of damage 

to metal, well... It didn't look fucking likely! It would be a shame if that metal 

monster-man were to do something to that pretty girl.

_____Which made things all the more ironic. There were at least fifty bystanders, 

witnesses to this, and they just stood and stared. They would do nothing. They just 

stood and watched, looked and waited. They wanted to see BLOOD, be it the 

real red human blood of the girl or--somehow--the darkish circulatory fluid 

of the cyborg. 

_____SHRISH-H-H! The girl gave a slight grunt when the attack came. She 

had barely ducked the diagonal swipe. That, though she had seen the swipe 

coming as soon as the cyborg tensed his left arm. She could hear the slight 

mechanisms in his arm powering up a quarter-second before the attack came. 

And when the attack did come, the huge cyborg's arm swung at such a speed 

that the air itself was ripped.

_____With his upper-body twisted halfway around from the attack, the girl was

free to land an attack of her own. THWACK! A swift and surprisingly

strong high-kick at the waist made the cyborg give pause. Another solid 

KICK followed that one, and the massive metal man shuddered. 

_____She did a dance-like step sideways, her long dark hair trailing like a wide 

silken sash. This put her into position to attack again. The cyborg put on a 

frightful grin just before he attacked--another SWISH. This time, his blow struck 

flesh. 

_____Not that the blow did much, but it was a hit! Just before the attack came, 

the girl had swayed backwards and put up her forearms in a passive block. Taking 

the impact, she was knocked onto her back, but only for a second. She then

seemed to bounce right back up. 

_____Damn, attacking her was like trying to kill a cat with a jackhammer: too slow and 

too unwieldy. Up again, The girl put on a series of swift and fierce kicks that went 

right to the cyborg's waist! Kicks that went straight, kicks that came from

the side, and a really hard THWACK when she leapt and lashed out with her 

right leg. It was a whirlwind of an attack.

_____Surprise mixed with structural damage, and the cyborg stood there for 

what seemed like a long time--six seconds. He then tried to take a step...

Instead, there were some grinding sounds coming from his waist. Some smoke

came out of cracks in his metal exoskeleton, and a few sparks leapt out. A

grunt, and he fell back... Back... 

_____The ring SHOOK when the impact hit. Grunting, he tried to get up again,

then gave up. It took an effort for him to slap the floor three times. He

lost this fight, and he knew it. 

_____"Ha ha ha!" laughed the long-haired girl in the kickboxing outfit. "Yay!"

She raised both hands into the air, put on a dazzling smile. And the "witnesses,"

the crowd, sent up a massive cheer! Their doubts had once again been beaten--

along with that cyborg in the ring.

_____Into the ring came a bald man in black trousers and white shirt, the outfit 

complete with black bow-tie. The referee. Trailing a microphone, he shouted, 

"And the winner of this bout by knock out is the guest fighter! Lissette!" 

_____That set the crowd to cheering all the more louder. They did not expect her

to win THIS time, though she had won every single amateur match they put her in. 

Lissette was never beaten, and people somehow wondered how. Maybe she was 

some kind of mutant. 

_____But, then again, most mutants had some kind of deformity--weird skin or 

misshapen limbs. Something like that. No, the girl looked normally formed as 

far as anyone could see, especially with that outfit of hers. Yes, she was 

beautifully formed. 

_____And she had the brains to match. She worked for the Feng-Long Society,

worked on computers or something--as far as most people in the crowd knew. 

Besides that, if she ever decided to have a change of profession, everyone

was sure she could get a job as an enforcer or professional fighter. More 

derisively, some would have liked to see her become a whore. 

_____She knew about what some of the people wanted. As the referee made 

further announcements and recitations about upcoming matches, she smiled 

and thought about what had been suggested to her at this boxing gym when she 

came here to workked out. They wanted her to be something other than what she 

was--currently a hacker. If only they knew how important her job was...

_____In fact, it was time for her to take her leave, to go do that job. If the madly 

cheering crowd and the referee would excuse her, she would go get ready for work. 

The referee still talking into the microphone was enough to keep this small local

crowd entranced. She had other things to worry about.

_____A slight hop down from the ring, a walk in the small aisle between the

folding chairs of the happy spectators, and she grabbed her shoulder bag before 

leaving through the door. And she was out in the city day and away from the 

crowd in there. The next amateur fight was getting ready to start; she could 

hear the amplified voice of the gym referee announcing it.

...

_____There was a night club several blocks away from the boxing gym, a drinking 

bar and a nice-sized dance floor. The inside of the blue-painted club itself was 

quiet and normally lit for now--because the regular customers were at work. So 

all that Lissette had to do was wave to the owner and bouncers sitting around as 

she went to the beer storage area and opened a combination-locked hatch on the 

floor. Yes, it was one of the Parasol Club's hidden computer labs--underneath 

this club. 

_____She stepped into the roomy white-walled cyber-lab, well-lit by three 

florescent light tubes set in the ceiling. Two members of the Parasol Club

were in here, sitting at the computers. One was a bald man in a business suit. 

The other was a teenage girl in blue jeans and blue tee shirt. Blue hair to 

match. They were an unlikely set, but both were hackers. 

_____There were just three computer workstations here, but they were 

connected to quite a powerful server--a cabinet-sized machine with plenty of 

speed and raw memory... The man in business suit turned his face away from the 

machine for a moment. Said, "Hey, toots! I suppose you kicked that guy's tuckus 

pretty well... If you ever needed another job, the Society could always use an 

enforcer! Especially a fully human one!"

_____Lissette put on a smile. "You know the answer to that one, Sam." The

blue-haired teenage girl turned to look at Lissette--and smiled as well.

"Besides, where would the Parasol Club be without me?"

_____"Ha-ha... Nowhere, toots!" said the business-suited man. "We'd be 

NOWHERE! You started this this gig. Thanks a million! Ha-ha-ha! Oh, I suppose 

you wanna go get changed--though I wouldn't mind you staying dressed as you are..." 

He winked.

_____"I'm sure," said Lissette, winking. Putting on a comically exaggerated "sexy"

walk, she stepped over to a side-door. Beyond it was a relaxation room, with a 

connected bathroom.

_____In the bathroom, she put down her bag, took off her clothes, and stepped into 

the shower. There was only cold water here, but she didn't mind. A twist of the 

knob, and the water began to wet her skin. As she began to wash her hair, she 

stopped. It was one of those prolonged thoughtful pauses. The shower water 

continued to cascade down on her as a question echoed in her mind...

_____The question was, what if they found out? It was the same very serious 

question that randomly came to mind. What if they did? If they found the truth?

_____As long as she was in this sector of thecity, she lived a very loose and good 

life. But it was a false life. She was living a gigantic lie compared to the truth.

_____Maybe they would not care if they found out. Plenty of people lived very 

questionable lives around here. After all, this was an urban region run by a crime 

syndicate. It was an organized crime syndicate, and the Society ran things 

pretty well. She was happy; the people were happy--humans and cyborgs, happy.

_____She wanted to be a part of this happiness. She wanted to stay in her role

as being the president of the Parasol Club and its role in keeping the Network 

out! Keeping it the HELL out of here! Lissette wanted to keep this life.

_____But to fully enjoy the life she lived now, it was very important that no one 

found the truth about her--about where she came from. If they discovered

the truth about Lissette, then she would probably be eliminated. 

_____If they found out? She suspected the worse. She expected peopleto call 

her a phony and kill her in as public and as humiliating a way as possible. So that 

must not happen.

_____For some time more, she stayed standing in the shower, crossing her arms across

her abdomen, head bowed in the cold stream of water. The water continued to wet her 

hair and skin flowing down the drain. In the shower was one worried, naked girl standing 

in the water coming down--standing in her own little rainstorm

. ..

3.

...

_____The skinny cyborg sloshed some more beer down his mouth as he staggered along the

hall with his two comrades. "So Gale said... HEE-HEE! He started ranting about some 

crazy shit about torn oatmeal packets and a funny little guy in a gray suit! HEE -HEE-HEE!

And then there was that fucked-up mess he said about CRACKED BOWLS!" Hiccup!

_____Though not as drunk or as wasted as Rafter or Gale, big Carbon himself was having 

more than a little bit of trouble walking along this hallway. "Quiet down, you! You want 

to do this or not? And when this is done, you can leave me the Hell alone about some 

damned 'home cookin'." 

_____Gale just went along with all this. Hell, if Carbon was doing it, he'd do it, too. And

he was just as drunk as Rafter--which wasn't a good thing to be for him: Gale's clothes

were extremely floppy, but they were just barely floppy enough to not be trouble...when he 

was sober. Now that he was wasted, he was having trouble moving about. He could do 

nothing now but just try to follow and keep up. They'd gotten this far into this apartment 

building... Wait a minute. When did he get into this building? Why couldn't he remember?

_____"That's because you're HIGH, Gale! HAA-HAA! You can't remember a damned

thing! Oops!" said Rafter, nearly tripping over his own skinny ankles. "Hey, how many

fingers am I holding up?" Hiccup!

_____He stopped walking, blinking. How many fingers was Rafter holding up? Hard

to tell, since everything looked as if he saw reality through six layers of warped glass, 

and he heard everything through distorted and twisted filters. Oh, Hell yes, he was high. 

He couldn't remember what he'd smoked, or what pills he'd popped. He just had this vague 

idea that he'd popped an awful lot of things while Rafter and Carbon drank plain old alcohol.

Now, where were they going?

_____"Here's an apartment!" grunted Carbon. BELCH! "Whoo-wee! Ain't that burp 

been a real gut-kicker? Hmmph. Here comes another one!" This time, the tank-bellied 

cyborg let out a bellowing, gigantic BURP that echoed throughout this hall. It was such 

a prolonged belch that a person could actually smell it in the air. At least it didn't come 

out the other end; the machinery of Carbon's digestive system was sometimes good for 

doing that. "Okay, we're fucking here, y'all. Let's get us some more!"

_____Wait, didn't they just come from...eating? Gale had the vague idea that what they

were doing was unnecessary and very, very wrong. Just a feeling he had. It was not any

sort of mind-tearing emotion. It was the kind of feeling that gave you glances out the 

corner of your eye instead of tapping you on the shoulder and outright TELLING you

what was wrong. 

_____"On the count of three!" said Carbon. "One, two..." KA-BLAM! The portly

cyborg's left arm blasted through the clean metal door. There were the screams of children 

from inside... Two children. They sounded young--and delicious. "Hoo-o-o BOY! Sounds 

like we're gonna have us some VEAL, boys!"

_____"Hee-hee-hee!" giggled Rafter, a dazzlingly mad and wild look in his eyes. 

"HEE-HEE-HEE! I've got first dibs on the livers! To HELL with the rest of 'em!" Hiccup! 

"It's brunch-and-crunch time!"

_____"Shut up," muttered Carbon. There was an explosive sort of sound when he 

rammed the ruined door with his left shoulder. The carpet inside muffled the sound

of the door falling to the living-room floor. Then came more screams...from the kitchenette. 

Also loud was the sound of furniture being put into place, the sound of a table being

moved against the door, along with other kitchen furniture. 

_____"Hee-hee! How convenient!" declared Rafter, taking a prolonged and final hit from

his bottle of red wine. He shook out the last drops, then hurled it--the bottle smashing 

against a gentle-colored wall. "The food is in the KITCHEN!" He did a silly little dancing

trot across the carpet, between the furniture. 

_____Over at the swinging door, he gave a shove. "Ha! Like the old furniture-behind-the-

-swinging-door trick is gonna work against ME! Never worked before. Not gonna work

now!" Another shove, and there was the sound of the furniture being knocked away inside

the kitchenette. The children screamed again when Rafter went in there.

_____Carbon went in too, followed closely behind. He saw Rafter going past the knocked-

down furniture and over to where a fat, matronly woman stood with a frying pan--two little 

children behind her and against the kitchen cabinet. They must've been twins or 

something... Anyway, he heard a thick and ringing sort of sound when the big lady's 

frying pan BLASTED across the side of Rafter's silly face--knocking his head sideways. 

_____With his right eye now looking diagonally and down, the other eye glinted with a 

mad sort of light as he grabbed the woman's right wrist . There was a grunt and

a ripping yank, and suddenly the big lady was without her right hand. The frying pan and 

hand both fell to the tiled floor. The blood followed, dribbling down red and dark, wetting 

the tile floor.

_____Carbon stomped on over as the middle-aged woman shoved Rafter with her remaining

good hand, putting up some kind of a struggle. Hell, it wasn't much, but she fought

pretty damned hard for someone losing that much blood! "Shut up and sit down, bitch," finally

said the big cyborg. "You got to know how to put a woman in her place, Rafter." Carbon 

then raised a metal hand and slapped the woman across the face--hard. 

______Too hard. The slap was accompanied by the meaty sound of snapping bone and 

cartilage beneath flesh, and the woman's head was now twisted too far around. The dead body

fell to the floor. 

_____Gale staggered into the kitchen just as Carbon and Rafter were reaching down to

grab hold of the children behind the dead body. The little kids in neat clothes were holding 

tight to each other, eyes clenched shut as the metal hands grabbed them. They SLAMMED 

them atop the kitchen counter where meals were prepared. 

_____His brain was too blasted with narcotics and stimulants to fully see what those two 

did to those kids, but there were awful sounds that followed. Terrible sounds of crying

and children screaming--until the screams were stopped. Were they stopped? Even after

Gale was sure those kids were killed and beginning to be eaten, he thought he heard 

them screaming... 

_____He heard them still screaming... "Har-har-har!" laughed Carbon, helping himself 

to a strip of raw bloody flesh. "Mmm-HMM... Tasty! Argh." With those sounds at 

his back, Gale staggered out of the kitchenette. Those slight feelings he had before were

were now raised. Something was definitely not right now... Something was happening...

...

_____Gale's feeling was right, because HE was in the building. He stood at the end of the 

hall on this floor--air currents an indoor wind blowing through. The powerful figure had on 

his blue coveralls and work shirt, the bill of his hat shadowing his face. Both of his powerful 

hands clutched the polished wooden broom handle, the head of the broom against the floor. 

He was the Janitor. He was here to carry out his business.

_____"He's out there, I know it...!" came the ranting cyborg's voice, muffled through the door. 

It was so quiet now that his voice carried through the hall. "He is here, and he can take us 

away! AAARGH! Look out!" There were other more hushed voices in that apartment trying to 

quiet him down. Yes, Gale had a real indication that HE was here. 

_____His friends, though, thought that Gale's perception of the Janitor was just a drugged-up 

hallucination. Gale tended to partake of certain..."substances" that led to...altered states 

of consciousness. So of course he would talk crazy and tend not to make sense when he was in

that sort of state. Of course and of course, he was just seeing reality through the warped 

and multi-tinted lens of a drug high. 

_____Somehow, that drug binge warped Gale's sense of reality enough as so he could see 

someone that was not quite there--yet actually, really there. But no one was really supposed 

to see the Janitor as much as Gale did. Most people would get glimpses of HIM in quiet 

shadowy rooms or back alleys at sunset, but no one--human or cyborg--should be so able to

perceive the presence of the Janitor. 

_____There were more sounds of struggles and grunts in the apartment over there as Gale's 

compadres wrestled to keep their drug-dosed buddy from doing something stupid and 

dangerous due to the effects of all the shit he'd smoked, the pills he'd popped. But HE 

was out there! They had to get out of here before HE got them!

_____No, that was not true. The Janitor was not here to "get" the cyborgs. He was not 

allowed to do anything about people. HE was not really allowed to interfere. That would be 

against regulations.

_____"HE'S going to get us! Don't let him take me... It's too early!" ranted Gale from 

behind the apartment door. Someone said a loud SHUT UP just before giving the 

drugged-up cyborg a solid THUMP across the top of the head. Yes, that shut Gale up. 

Maybe he knew too much. He was starting to scare Rafter! And if Gale were to keep 

up that sort of talk, maybe he'd scare Carbon into believing it... 

_____Or maybe the Janitor did not really exist at all. Maybe he was just a collective

hallucination, dreamt up human brains in fever dreams and drug binges--brains in the metal 

skulls of cyborgs. HE could have just been the product of what was a mass psychosis.

_____"Hee-hee-hee-ah! Gale's really over the deep end now, isn't he!" chortled Rafter 

from behind that apartment door. "No fucking way there's some damned creepy Janitor 

stalking us! Just some damned rumor!" He opened the door and stuck his blood-smeared 

synthetic face out into the hall--blood around his lips and cheeks like grotesque spaghetti 

sauce. "Hee-hee-hee...! THE JANITOR DOES NOT EXIST! HE IS A RUMOR! Hee--hee-hee!" 

SLAM! He shut the door again.

_____In any case, if the Janitor really was there, then he stood there after having 

completed a chore... Smiling. And, looking closely, one could see that he had some 

things in his coveralls pants pocket-the left pocket. Because there were lumps in there.

Three large lumps. Not ordinary lumps, those.

_____One could see that those lumps moving slightly. Yes, those lumps were...breathing. 

And the way the lumps had settled in his pocket, one would think it was for comfort. Two 

of the lumps squirmed a bit, shifting in the pocket.

_____The Janitor used his right hand to reach over and comfort the lumps in his

left pocket. Yes, yes... Things would be fine soon enough. The Janitor would 

deliver whatever it was he had in his pocket. There was a blast of wind through 

this hallway and the Janitor suddenly wasn't there anymore. 

...

_____"He's probably some kind of errand runner," said the petite, green-eyed 

woman--the bartender, pouring a drink for one of her customers sitting at this 

polished bar. "No one to really be worried about."

_____This was just one of several drinking spots scattered throughout this sector 

of the city, but it could have been just any bar. But it could not have been just 

any bartender. "Bu I wouldn't want to meet HIM in a dark alley-or ANY alley! 

Ha-ha-ha..."

_____The customer here was a male cyborg, dressed in blue jeans and concrete-

dusted white tee shirt-a construction worker on his lunch break. The Feng Long 

society-unlike the Network-fully recognized the value of the lunch break. He

liked hearing the bartender speak. She was beautiful and had a beautiful voice.

And there was something more than that about her... 

_____"Look out for that one, Jake," she said. "He can take you away. I mean it.

All that his boss has to do is give a command... And there is no hiding from HIM

anywhere."

...

4.

...

_____Sera stepped into the apartment hallway, the carpet quietly padding her steps... She 

stopped. Stray air currents blew through, playing with strands of her hair. A window must be 

open somewhere, though this building's reconstructed air conditioning should have kept the 

temperature cool and ideal. 

_____Yes, there was a window open at the end of this hallway. There should have been the

sound of traffic outside--sounds coming in. But it was too quiet in here. No local radios playing.

No televisions on, tuned in to local broadcast stations that showed loud arena gladiator fights. 

It was as if sound itself was muffled and muted. Something... 

_____Something was wrong here, something not good at all. Sera stood still enough to feel 

more stray indoor breezes brush against her bare arms and face, almost whispering across her 

ears. Then came this awful, horrible cold feeling. She didn't know exactly why, but she suddenly

had this idea that...

_____With that feeling filling her, she RAN towards her apartment. Though only ten 

meters away, though she moved wind-fast, it seemed to take too long to get there. The

door was left open. And there was a thick sort of wrong smell in the air. Something 

had happened! She carefully opened the door...

_____And came into the living room. There was laughter coming from the kitchenette, 

laughter from strangers. They sounded drunk and careless. There were curses and nasty

promises made to each other. Brutal promises of bloodlust and violence. Yet, they laughed.

As she came to the swinging door, she saw blood on the right edge of the door. 

_____She pushed opened the swinging door to the kitchenette... Blood. There was blood 

all over. Splattered here, soaking there, it painted all of the flat surfaces. Blood on the counter,

mixed with more blood on the floor. That went with the blood pouring down the sides of the

cabinet. Most of it was on the table.

_____The deep, thick red liquid seems to have been splashed atop the kitchen table, along 

with the armless and legless torso of a chubby woman, opened up. Dead eyes stared out from

an even more dead bloodied face. 

_____Shocked still, Sera's wide-open eyes followed a splattered trail of blood that went up 

the side of the counter-top where meals were prepared. Except now, atop the counter, there 

was another sort of meat. Two small bodies...

_____That did it. A small, sad sound came from within her as she move slowly to the 

floor. Her back to the wall, she sat with legs folded beneath her. The kitchen now seemed

far and away. She felt herself sobbing. And she heard things as if filtered through water.

_____"Aw, Hell," said one of the strangers, sitting at the table. A big one. "Why do these 

dumb-asses always come rompin' on back home after we done ate some people they know? 

Hmmph, we probably choose the wrong damned times to do this shit."

_____"Hee-hee-hee! Home delivery!" said another one of them. "Why go OUT for home 

cooking when it comes to you?" As if in slow motion, Sera saw the giggling skinny one in thin

black businessclothing--wet with blood--get up from where he sat at the table. "Hee-hee-hee... 

And THIS one looks delicious!"

_____"What the fuck? You STILL can't be hungry!" said the big one again. "Just knock that 

dumb bitch out. That's all you gotta do. That's all you SHOULD do... Hmmph, y'all always 

gettin' carried away, eatin' full-flesh people like you're at some fucked-up all-you-can-eat 

restaurant."

_____Sera looked up at the skinny cyborg in skinny black business clothes--his dress 

jacket with large dring patches of blood. Not his blood. "HEE-HEE! Sure, Carbon! I'll

KNOCK HER OUT! Hee-hee-hee! Hell yes! Yes-yes-yes-yes..." THWACK!

_____The first blow caught her in the left side of her chest, a kick to the ribs. Oddly enough, 

there was not much pain. She just felt her strength leaving her. Everything seemed to be

going far away, feeling herself being carried away into darkness as unconsciousness closed 

over her. Carried away into the darkness of unconsciousness, she was lucky not to have felt 

the following blows to her body, the mad sound of the mad cyborg's laughter as he HIT and HIT

and...

...

_____She found herself somewhere else, laid on a hard shiny floor. It felt like polished black 

marble under her palms as she sat up. It gleamed with the sheen of marble under the glare of 

the bright yellow spotlight that glared down on her. All around was a ver dim sort of gloom.

_____Was she dreaming? When dreaming, it was very hard to tell. But this felt like more

than a dream--much more...significant. And what was that swishing sound? Was someone

sweeping in the darkness? She opened her mouth, ready to call out. Before she could

though, she recieved another sort of greeting.

_____Another spotlight faded on. This time, a white spotlight. It shone on a pale, slender 

woman standing atop a circular wooden table. She really was that bright white color, all over. 

Her pale blonde hair was the same tone as her white-light skin. And the sleeveless silky 

gown matched the tone of her skin. The only thing not pale about her seemed to be her large 

eyes--large and blood-red. She was an ethereal figure like that could only come out of a dream. 

Or a nightmare.

_____"Get up!" said the Dream Woman. "Your bowl is not broken, just cracked. And you

are still not in the breeze! So you WILL stand... You will go!" She raised a slim arm to point 

to Sera, sitting in the other spotlight. "You have lost bowls, and so you will BREAK those 

responsible!"

_____What? Sera tried to stand, but could not. She shook her head. No. No. She could 

not stand just now... But the Dream Woman insisted it. "GET UP! Stand up! This will be 

done! Ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha! You will do what you will do, for I wish it so!" 

_____There was the sound of sweeping, and Sera thought she saw a shadowy sort of figure

coming in her direction. Hard to tell, as everything was so damned dark outside of the

spotlights. But she knew someone was there as she heard the sound of a broom brush 

moving. Then she felt something grab her around the midsection and she was being carried

away just as she tried to get up.

...

_____And she still struggled to stand. Get up! But Sera was not sure if she could. She 

was too afraid to look down at herself, not knowing what those crazy cyborgs had done to 

her body while she was knocked unconscious. All that she knew was that she had been badly

hurt. Her right arm felt useless, numb from the elbow down. It hurt to breathe, sharp pains in 

the left side of her chest. The left side of her face ached. There was an awful ache in another 

place, meaning that they had done some other things to her. Things she did not want to think 

about just now.

_____Get up. It was not just a thought, it was an insistence. The pains of her body were 

getting to her head, making her feel dizzy-almost putting her out again. She used her

uninjured arm to sit up very, very carefully. Using care, she went to her knees before 

trying to stand. Get up...

_____Get up and get out. Because her gasping breaths were accompanied by the smell of

something beginning to burn! Oh no...! If she fell now, then there would be no getting up

and out at all. Jefty and Jane were here--her little sister and brother. Martha, the Nanny,

was still left here too... 

_____No, insisted thoughts in Sera's head. These thoughts not quite her own thoughts. 

They seemed to come from somewhere else. These thoughts were telling her something

Else, things she did not want to hear.

_____No, only the bodies were here-what was left of them. DEAD bodies. They were killed 

and mutilated, partially eaten. What was left was NOT alive. The dead meat atop the 

kitchen table and on the formica counter, that was not her family. Now all of her family was 

dead. And so would she be if she stayed here-the thick smell of burning becoming thicker. 

If her vision hadn't been so blurred and darkened with pain, maybe she would see the smoke. 

_____ Smoke was what came with fire. There was smoke here, and the smell was getting 

thicker. If she stayed, if she fell, she would see the fire and be burned to death. Or maybe she 

should stay here with the dead. She felt so hurt. It would feel so good to just lie down and 

go to sleep.

_____No, you fool! Angry, red-eyed thoughts came to her again. You will NOT lie here.

Because this place is going to flames! This place of dark violence is going to be burned up. 

Yes, Sera, it's going to become hot here, yellow fire all over the floor and filling this apartment.

Flames will dance across the ceiling. Everything will be gone. Gone.

_____So get out! Sobbing and gasping, dizzy and hurting, Sera left the bloody kitchenette. 

She pushed open the swinging door with her left hand and staggered out of the kitchenette. 

Now, she could see the faint gray mist of the coming smoke. Before, she just smelled it. She 

had to get out of here! Walking around the couch and past an armchair, she made it to the 

door. Just before she left, she thought she glimpsed a figure...

_____No, there was no one there. She must have been crazy, thinking there was. And she 

closed the door behind her. The elevator was nearby. As she walked over in that direction,

she could hear a dull and low roar coming from over in her apartment. There was definitely 

something happening in her apartment now. Fire was happening. There was a blast of air in 

the hallway, probably from the temperature difference.

_____She staggered into the elevator..and nearly tripped over a very familiar oversized

purse. Her purse. It was a money cache-her money cache. But how? No matter how, she

had it. Someone must have put it in the elevator for her. Maybe, the man in blue she'd 

glimpsed just before she'd left her apartment had... No, that would be just impossible. Who 

was he? And where had she seen him before?

_____Forget it. That didn't matter now. What did matter now was that she had her cache of 

credit chips, slung over her left shoulder and away from her numb arm. It was most all of what 

she'd earned and saved, in large denomination chips. Unlike the rulership of the Network, 

the Feng-Long Society had money houses-buildings where people could have their 

money held...for a moderate fee, of course. But habit from early childhood kept Sera to 

holding most of her own money in hiding; she only kept some of it in the money houses.

_____After this, she would put half of this money into her money-house account. Or most

of it now, because there was no way she could keep it safe in her condition. She would use 

the rest of it to follow a plan that had come to mind. It was a very simple and basic plan,

but it would be the most important plan of her life. 

_____Now her life would be very different. There was no way she could go back to being

a prostitute--not with the severe injuries she had. These were the sorts of hurts that would leave

scars and marks. There were probably doctors, sponsored by the Society, who could fix Sera 

in a way as so she had few and faint scars. Maybe... But that probably would not be good 

enough. It would not be good enough for her. Not good enough at all. It was time to 

become a member of another type of profession.

_____But how? First, she needed to learn how to fight. But she couldn't fight. She had never 

fought in her life, had only struggled--then run--when trouble came. And anyone who could 

fight was professional-like those bounty hunters of the Network, like the Enforcers of the 

Society, or like those professional fighters at the arenas and gyms. Most of them were cyborgs, 

so she had to...

_____ The elevator doors opened, and Sera stepped onto the ground-floor , where a small 

crowd of people were heading for the stairs. They carried buckets full of fire-suppressing 

chemicals, kept in a big tank in a storage room just in case the custom-installed fire sprinkler

system wasn't working. 

_____Yet that wasn't a fire they would have to worry about-or be able to put out. The fire

would only be restricted to Sera's apartment. And it was not the kind of fire they would be

able to put out, anyway. It was a different kind of fire, an unbelievably powerful kind. No,

not even the strongest fire-suppressing liquids on Earth could stop a fire started by that 

mysterious stranger. The fire in that apartment would have to be left to stop on its own. 


	3. Chapter 3: The Color of Another Bowl

The Cinnamon Horizon

by Elliot Bowers

Chapter 3: The Color of Another Bowl

_____Head bowed, left hand clutching her injured right arm, she somehow continued these 

streets--making her way along the sidewalk. Seemingly drunk with exhaustion and pain, the 

red-haired girl weaved and swayed as she walked and moved. Every so often, she leaned 

against a pollution-dusted metal pole of a nearby streetlamp. There, she would rest for 

some seconds, shrug her left shoulder to readjust her heavy purse, then move on. Somehow, 

she would get there. Though her body was weak, only a human body of flesh and bone, her 

willpower was strong enough to pushed her on.

_____Most of the local people were at work now. So there was almost next to no one for 

her to bump into as she moved along; there was almost no one around. No staring eyes on her

as she went along...

_____Her eyes were downcast as she tried to watch her step and keep from falling down. 

She only had a vague idea as to where she was going now, head and mind so full of pain and 

darkness. Maybe she had gone to some wrong streets. And maybe she had missed certain 

turns. She would get there eventually. Not that such a distance was too long a walking trip, 

but that was only true if a person was healthy and mobile. Someone not feeling... 

_____She was getting worse. Several times, she had nearly fallen unconscious. She had heard 

and felt slight grating sounds in her neck when she stopped now, and her obviously broken ribs 

were starting to make her cough. Each coughing fit now brought with it the taste of blood. 

_____She made it. Here it was, six blocks away from her apartment. A two-story building, 

it was primarily a store-front operation. People usually set appointments before using this 

place, but its operation was so efficient that walk-in business was always possible. Having

nine staff members on duty at all times made for timely and reliable work. That, and having

several re-purposed Deckmen helped operations considerably. The sliding doors opened 

automatically. 

...

_____Inside was a mid-sized waiting-and-reception area--much like a dentist's office of 

centuries past. A bald male cyborg in white clothes sat behind the reception window, in a smaller

office. "Good afternoon..." he said, an almost automatic greeting. But the standard professional

greeting faded when he more fully realized the condition of this latest patient. 

_____Through the reception window, he saw a girl--barely a woman--in bad condition. She 

was clutching her right arm, bent somewhat the wrong way. Her sleeveless blouse torn in 

several places, there were patches of dried blood. And he could hear her breathing in sipping 

gasps, a sign of oncoming shock. Or, worse, a sign of broken ribs. There was also drying 

blood on her torn skirt, meaning that someone had done something very bad to her...

_____"My goodness!" he said. In a hurry, he left the reception office and came through a 

side door to get into the reception area itself. He carefully helped the girl over to one of the

soft chairs. She seemed small and broken... "There, everything is fine now. Just relax, and

let me take a look at you..."

_____"Just...get me some damned paper. Several FUCKING sheets of paper! And something...to 

write with!" she growled through gritted teeth. "I have to write some things down, damn it. And

hurry up, fuck-face. I'm...feeling almost dead."

_____ The professional cyborg himself gasped. Clearly, this patient was delusional. "Before

you need that, you need medical attention! You need to have your injuries..." But a sudden

dark glare from the girl's eyes silenced him. 

_____Something in the red-haired girl's glare made him get up and hurry to do what she said. 

There was a long clinical memo pad in the reception office, along with some pens on the side-desk. 

He grabbed pen and memo pad, then came back to the reception room. He got these things 

in a hurry, without thinking about it.

_____Back in the reception area, he carefully set the memo pad on the injured girl's lap--

mindful of the bruises and injuries visible through her torn skirt. Her right arm limp, she grabbed 

the pen he had with her left. And then her head drooped forward. For a moment, he thought 

she had fainted...

_____Until he saw her begin to write--very, very fast. For someone so injured and in so 

much pain, she should not have had that degree of hand-eye coordination. In fact, he had never

seen any human write so fast: Flesh could only move so fast. But her left hand moved with the

rapidity of a factory cyborg! Those were quick and sharp movements, her left hand making 

very quick scritches and strokes with the pen. And there was no hesitation at all. In just moments,

she had filled out several pads. It was incredibly fast...

_____On the sixth page, she stopped--setting down the pen. "I want this body," she said, tapping

the written sheets of paper. "I have more than enough money for it, and you have everything you

need here to make it for me. Do it." 

_____The male receptionist picked up the notes and glanced at what was written. Hmm...

What in the Devil's name...? This was amazing. Simple, but amazing. These were general

schematics and attributes for what could be a damned good body. Though he was only an 

apprentice cyber-technician, he just knew that these notes--complete with diagram--were 

good. Damned good. 

_____He opened his mouth to begin to tell her so, but the girl had slumped into unconscious, 

her long red hair curtaining her face and shoulders. Just then, several full-time staffers came 

into this room. "Dr. Jaypeg, Dr. Lift, you have to hear about this...!" 

_____From there, he quickly told her about that injured girl...and the amazing request she had 

just made. While the girl was put on a stretcher and carted out, the male receptionist pointed

to and introduce the notes. The two cyber-technicians agreed; these notes were too amazing

to refuse. 

...

_____Later, as his two gigantic bodyguards stood back by the doorway, this business-suited 

executive stood in the middle of the room. He should have a seat... But no, he refused to let 

this latest trouble make him sit. 

_____He, Mr. Yin, now stood stiffly in this reception room, his normally serene golden face 

now heavy with concern. He generally hid his worry well. Not this time, though. 

This time, he was apparently worried. Almost grieving.

_____When one the local Enforcers told him that one of his topmost prostitutes was seen 

limping and injured towards a cyber-clinic, he moved in a hurry! The local enforcers knew 

who Sera was, how valuable an asset she was, and yet they were NOT there to protect her. 

Now she was changing her body--as well as ending her profession while still in her prime! Here 

he was, in the place where Sera would surrender her human body for one sculpted of metal and

electromechanics.

_____"That was not to happen, should not have happened" he said in an even tone to the 

assistant cyber-technician--a cyborg in white medical pants and white short-sleeved shirt. 

"That may happen at random times to other citizens. But for such an occurrence to pass with 

one of my most valued employees is tragically unacceptable." He paused, put his hands 

behind his back, and began to walk around the cyber-technician. "Now...! I would like 

another review of what is being done to the young lady now in your care--the ONLY young 

lady currently in your care."

_____The cyber-technician put on his most professional manner while the high-ranking executive

walked around and around him. It was like being in a slow, sickening whirlpool. He clasped 

his metal hands in front of himself and respectfully bowed his head while the executive continued 

about to walk around. 

_____"Well, sir... To review, the client-patient came here for the specific purpose of having 

her entire body replaced. This would be a radical change--taking her from full-flesh human to 

full cyborg in just hours. As the patient was in such critical medical condition and that she was 

insistent on this, we complied. 

_____"In addition to that, nothing really stopped us from beginning the procedure. Funds 

were not at all an issue here as she had ready cash. Also, she had somehow produced a 

general--but doable--set of technical specifications and modifications to whatever body we 

would give her. In this case, a female-shaped metal body. A fairly common body model, but 

we would modify the body in accordance with the notes."

_____"Wait, let me see your general-purpose documentation again," said Mr. Yin, stopping his

circular ambling. The cyber-technician went to the reception window and got a copy from the

male receptionist--three sheets of typed documentation, set on a clip-board. 

_____He presented the clipboard to the executive, then took a step back. Mr. Yin then resumed

walking in circles around the technician. "I must admit to you that cybernetics is not my specialty. 

I have modest understanding of the technology. And even from my somewhat common view, 

I accept what you tell me--with exceptions. I wanted wonder how this can be done in such hurry." 

_____"Sir, it was just modification of the hardware and supplies we have available," answered the 

cyber-technician. "The artificial muscle tissue was surprisingly easy to modify with the chemicals

we have available, especially when integrated with the redundant electromechanics within her 

body's modified mobility systems. As for the metal exterior of her new body, the exoskeleton,

it will be somewhat less resistant to impacts--but is only one-tenth the weight of what we 

normally use for those who become professional arena gladiators."

_____"So she is getting almost be a fighter's body," said Mr. Yin, still walking around. "But I 

know of gladiator cyborgs; my associates are in that business... Well, her body would be too 

light. And what use could she have for having her hair made of monofilament strands? A 

common practice for gladiators is to have light and easily-torn hair in case the opponent tries to

grab it. And why are gladiator bodies are supposed to be heavier--especially around the wrists

and feet? For more impact! These notes describe a hybridization between a gladiator's body and 

a typical citizen's body. Not good for fighting, because that is what she seems to have in mind."

_____"Yet, it will be a body shaped almost exactly like the patient's original," countered the 

assistant cyber-technician. "All of what she requested can be fit within the shape of a young 

woman of almost average height. It is very possible. We are intrigued by the hybrid design, 

too. Especially considering the designer, the patient herself. How did someone like her come 

up with such an interesting and innovative body design?" He lowered his voice. "Mr. Yin, is 

it really true that the patient was always a...?"

_____"It is true, as far as I know," answered Mr. Yin. "Soon after this sector of the city was rid 

of Network control, most of Sera's family was killed in the temporary social chaos that came after.

The Society restored order and decency to this sector, more decency than there ever was 

before! But it was too late for Sera's family. It was almost too late for Sera--still a teenager--

and her younger twin siblings who were barely old enough to walk then. 

_____"Sera had to provide for them any way she could. When it was discovered that she had a 

certain talent, she was quickly brought to my attention. And she had been doing her job since.

Until today. Today, she is becoming something else. Having rented her own body for the nightly 

pleasure of clients, she now surrenders it completely. 

_____"I was chosen to become one of several top executives in charge of alcohol, gambling 

and prostitution--because I have much self-control regarding those activities. I can keep an 

even head in consideration of those forms of pleasure. I can stay focused on the business part

of it. Not make things personal.

_____"But in Sera's case, though she is an employee, I cannot be professional! I take her

well-being personally! It is no longer just business! I care about her!" He stopped pacing, 

stood within a foot of the cyber-technician's right side. "A matter I will deal with beyond my 

own duties as an executive of the Feng Long Society."

_____Shaken, the cyber-technician nodded. "Y-yes sir, Mr. Yin. We are doing the best we can

for the patient. Don't forget, we have a vested interest, too. When the patient emerges as a new

cyborg, we will still have the notes she had given us--those excellent innovations. We want to 

see what the patient will be able to do. We are just as anxious to see to her well-being as you 

are, sir."

...

2.

...

_____Meanwhile, the apprentice cyber-technician waited by the rear entrance to this clinic.

In exchange for being taught the ways of cyborg technology and being paid a regular wage, he 

had to spend several days of every week handling little details of keeping this place running--things 

like patient paperwork and overseeing maintenance of the building, like today. Today, he had 

to call an electrician for one of the building's backup generators. 

_____There was a knock at the metal door, and the apprentice opened the door. There stood 

a squat, burly man in yellow coveralls. He had a rather large toolkit with him. "Hey guy, you 

call me about power supply probs?" he asked. "Somethin' about a backup generator havin' 

some surges and what-not?"

_____"Yes... Please come in." The apprentice nodded and stepped aside, letting the electrician 

in. He closed the door behind him. "I'm not sure, mister..." He paused, read the nametape 

sewn on the electrician's coveralls. The electrician's name was Mr. Cumulo. "I'm not sure, 

Mr. Cumulo, but it could be a problem like that. Last night, I was there for the backup test--and 

the lights flickered for at least six minutes. It happened this morning, too. Six minutes. We can't 

have that sort of unstable power source for the operations we do here. The equipment is pretty 

rugged and resistant to electrical damage, but exactly HOW resistant to damage... We don't 

want to find out."

_____"Ha-ha...! Yeah, I hear ya buddy!" responded the electrician. "Three weeks back, I 

had ta find some power strips fer some secretary whose computer was on the fritz. Yeah, ya 

gotta have a stable power source fer electronic equipment... Hmm..." He put on a thoughtful 

look. "Yer tellin' me, ya got EXACTLY six-minute periods of crappy juice runnin' through yer 

system? Sounds kinda funny, fer random flux. Take me to yer power room."

_____The apprentice escorted Mr. Cumulo to the service elevator--going down to the 

basement of the building. Not that it was laziness; this was part of diagnosing the building's 

electrical supply. On the ride down, the electrician carefully listened to the hum of the 

elevator's electrical motors to try and check for any potential electrical fluxes. If there were 

any instabilities in the power supply right then, he would have heard it in the way the elevator's

motors sounded.

_____This basement was a almost a complete floor of its own. It had a hallway, rooms to the 

left and right were aside for storage of chemicals and cyber-parts. "The power room is at the

far end, with the fuse boxes and all," said the apprentice. "There's an electrical hazard sign on 

the door. You know, with the lightning bolts on it."

_____"Yeah, figured as much, guy. Heh-heh... And ya should have circuit-breakers here 

'stead of fuses," chuckled the electrician. "But I gotcha. I know whatcha mean." And of 

course he knew what an electricity hazard sign looked like. He took three steps down this

hall...when he stopped, looked slowly around. Speaking lowly and carefully, he said to the 

cyborg, "Hear that?"

_____The cyber-tech apprentice looked vaguely confused. "Hear what? All I hear is..."

Then he heard something--the rhythmic swish-swish-swhish sound of a push-broom being 

brushed across the hard concrete flooring. "Oh, sounds like someone sweeping... We 

normally have a hired man handle floor maintenance twice a day. Humph, he must be early."

_____"Sweepin'? Ya musta got different hearin' from mine, buddy," countered the electrician. 

"Know what I hear? I hear the razzle-dazzle frazzle of some step-downs runnin' middle-high. 

Gotta go check it out." 

_____The cyber-tech apprentice and the electrician were hearing two different sounds. Or 

they were hearing the same sound, just hearing it two very different ways. But the sound was

coming from the same source--over in the power control room, down the hall. The triangular

sign with the stick figure and stylized thunderbolts was on the door at the end. 

_____Those sounds were more audible as they approached, walking down this basement

hallway. While the apprentice continued to hear the sound someone sweeping, the electrician 

heard that peculiar buzz-hum that certain electrical components make when running close to 

capacity. The electrician put on a pair of insulated rubber gloves, then opened that door.

_____Inside was a large room with a massive cylindrical metal machine. The machine was, of

of course, the backup generator. It occupied almost the entire left half of the space here. To 

the right, set in a corner, was circuit-breaker array. It included an LED-equipped control panel 

with a seat in front of it. The control panel, which had some round yellow lights blinking. 

_____"Jeez! What the Hell? Gotta handle THAT!" said the electrician. "Lucky I know this 

setup! And youse are more lucky you ain't call over one of our younger guys..." He sat down

at the control panel, taped labels on the buttons. He pressed the blinking yellow LED buttons 

and turned a rheostat knob. He waited a few seconds, and the lights blinked off. Then he turned

the rheostat knob up again. "Humph. That wasn't an emergency, but it coulda been a real 

problem. Somethin' musta set up a helluva lotta electrostatic discharge to cause this much 

potential buildup." 

_____The cyber-apprentice knew about the principles of electricity--but he didn't understand

what the electrician was trying to say. "Could you please say that more clearly?"

_____So the electrician swiveled around and pointed to the control panel. "Guy, I had ta 

discharge ALL the excess electrostatic potential in yer system's capacitors an' crank down the 

input. I'd hafta do that after a building's been hit with about six hundred lightnin' strikes. So 

what's goin' on 'round here? Ya doin' electrical experiments or somethin'? 'Cause my buddies 

an' I already know a lot 'bout electricity an' we'd be glad to tell ya. No need to try an' fry yer 

own equipment, either."

_____"Experiments? I don't know... Humph." The vaguely confused electrician was going 

to open his mouth when the door SLAMMED open. There was a rush of air, as if someone 

had set up an indoor storm. The cyber-apprentice and electrician both looked around, 

shocked, expecting to see someone standing there or running away down the basement hall. 

But there was no one there. At least, no one they could see. 

...

_____Upstairs, Sera opened her eyes to bright lights. Had she been dreaming? She had 

dreamt of being in a strange and small place, of being wrapped in something--the sound of wind

blowing outside. Yet it was warm in that wrapped place, and she thought that she was being

carried to a wonderful dark place...to stay there forever. 

_____That was strange. But dreams were that way, very strange and dark things. Dreams are

just too strange to be real. And that was clearly a dream.

_____This was reality, bright and sharp. The bright lights above the table shone down on her, 

making her blink a few times. Her eyes then adjusted quickly and automatically... Thinking

about it, Sera realized that she was feeling a lot better than she was before. 

_____"Did it work?" she asked, not sure if anyone else was here. Hands going to the table beneath

her, she sat up--giving a practiced sideward toss of her head to keep the lengths of her long 

red hair away from her eyes. She used her hands combing hair behind her ears as so she 

could look down at...

_____Of course the operation worked. Why wouldn't it? It had been done a million times 

before to a million other people. Just now, she was having her doubts and worries. But that 

worrying would be pointless.

_____Her hands were metal, as was the rest of her body--metal. She still had her body shape, 

was still the same size. But her body was now one of alloys and electromechanics. She was 

no longer a human being. She was still herself, though. At least she thought so. Her now-solid

hands went to her cheeks, nose and lips... Her face was flesh--though synthetic flesh. 

_____One of this clinic's staff members walked up, a blonde female in the simple white pants, 

shirt and labcoat and pants favored by the personnel here. "Good evening, young lady. You've 

napped well. Yes, you look very rested. And you look a lot better... It all shows on your 

face." 

_____Sera turned to face the blonde cyber-technician. "Doctor, thank you... Thank you and 

all of your fellow workers." The new cyborg flexed her metal fingers, in awe at the way

her new body worked so normally. No, there was no real feeling of difference--other than 

the feeling of solidity. Looking to the cyber-technician, she asked, "Evening? Was I really 

asleep all day?"

_____"Yes, you were," came the answer, from another cyber-technician--this one a bald male

cyborg in a similar white technician's uniform. He had on the same white clothing and labcoat

as the blonde technician. "We kept the EEG scanner on you for some hours after to make 

sure that your brain stayed alive. For a while, we were worrying that you were suffering some 

unforeseen effects of having your nervous system so closely meshed and integrated with the 

synthetics." He paused. "You know, that design you'd given us was so new and bizarre that 

we'd have to call it...experimental. Almost dangerous. "

_____"You mean I could have DIED?" said Sera, suddenly worried. "Why didn't somebody

tell me that? You're doctors, and you didn't tell me?"

_____"You're thinking of medical doctors, and we're not really medical doctors," said the bald 

technician. "What we do is not quite medicine. We work with machines, put brains into 

machine-bodies. What we do is more a technical profession, not quite an ethical one. So call

us technicians. Besides, you insisted on getting that new body of yours."

_____"Yes...I did," answered Sera. It seemed that she had temporarily forgotten the moments 

that brought her to here. Up until she had fallen unconscious in the reception room, she had 

felt and seen things through a dim reddish haze of pain and misery. She did not really remember 

all that she had done. There were now just flashes, mental glimpses, of the past few waking 

hours.

_____She remembered... Remembered trying to stay up and moving while walking the

sidewalk. And she remembered having to stop because it hurt so much. But she was being 

mentally pulled along to get to the cyber-clinic nearest to where she lived. The thought, the 

desire, kept her going.

_____...Remembered an angry demand for sheets of paper. For whatever reason, she had 

almost SCREAMED at someone for not getting her paper quickly. Because she suddenly

had ideas, all kinds of ideas. Then the ideas had to be put down and used. Something 

made her insist on this. 

_____Funny, she didn't remember thinking much while doing all of that. There was just this 

idea that she had in her head. The idea filled her head and got her moving. And it had brought 

her out of unconsciousness. Now here she was, no longer really human. 

_____Now she could do what she planned. Looking at her own clenched fists, Sera smiled. 

"NOW, I will get out of this place and get some things done." A cold look came to her eyes.

"You've got your money, or you should have, from my purse. Now if you'll excuse me..." She 

swiveled herself sideways and set her newly shod feet to the floor--getting down off of the 

operating table. "And thanks again--doctors, technicians... Whatever you call yourselves. I

have business of my own to handle." 

_____The door to this operating room opened. "You will not do anything else yet, Miss Sera," 

said the newcomer, a very familiar voice. It was the voice of Mr. Yin. Some of the Enforcers 

under his control have been doing some investigation. And they had found out about what had

happened to his employee. Now he was here. "I know about what is going on with you. You 

plan on going after certain rogue Enforcers--for what they have done! But you cannot go 

to them yet!" 

_____"Mr. Yin!" said Sera, bowing her head respectfully. No way did she expect him to walk 

in. "I did not expect you to be here. I would have told you, but I was too injured to call. I 

apologize. Please forgive me."

_____The bald, thin businessman walked farther into the room--one massive business-suited

bodyguard suit standing by his right side. He looked her down and up, perusing her newly 

metal physique. Then he did a slow walk once around her. "Hmm, yes... Very nice design--

the same proportions as your original body. Indeed, you may now have abilities like a machine, 

but know you how to use the abilities? How good of a fighter are you?" 

_____"Well I..." Sera knew the answer to that one; there was no dancing around it. "I don't 

really know how to fight. But I was hoping that, with this new body, I could just be strong 

enough to get those damned bastards who..."

_____Mr. Yin raised a hand, palm out. It was a gentle gesture that silenced the new cyborg. 

"No... That is not a good answer. I have a better one. You see, you must know how to 

FIGHT. And I happened to have made arrangements with someone to train you. Someone 

who is very good at teaching cyborgs how to fight. She is not a cyborg herself, but she is still a 

very good instructor for such people--such as yourself now." He smiled. "Coincidentally, she 

is one of the most important people in this sector of the city. You should meet her."

...

3.

...

_____Sera rode with Mr. Yin. Like all high-ranking executives of the Society, he had a 

limousine. This vehicle was rumored to have been on the way to Zalem when it was, well... 

It was "intercepted" and sent back down. Hackers could do that.

_____This gleaming black vehicle rode the late-afternoon streets. The orange-yellow light of 

near-sunset colored the sky and glinted off of the glass of the buildings. Most of the local 

manufacturing was finished up around five o'clock, so there were more trucks on the urban 

roads--making the trip take a little longer. The young cyborg saw more of the downtown 

scenery through the vehicle's tinted glass, making the dying light of day seem dimmer and 

more faded than it actually was. Or was she just adjusting to her new eyes? 

_____No, that couldn't be it. Her new eyes were just fine--if not better. The rest of her body

was working fine, too. Her thoughts wandered along those lines as she looked out the rear 

window of this vehicle. Mr. Yin seemed to be in just as much a pondering mood himself: He 

volunteered no conversation during their ride. The bodyguard riding back here said nothing, 

either. 

_____This limousine slowed to a stop in front of Gold's Gym--a red-brick one-story structure

elsewhere in the downtown area. It looked oddly out-of-place: this rugged and industrial sort 

of building set among neater- and sleeker-looking night clubs and clothing shops. But other 

than the painted sign, paint peeling off of it, it was well-kept and maintained. In fact, someone

was sweeping the sidewalk area in front of the entranceway now.

_____The bodyguard stepped out first, holding the vehicle door open for Mr. Yin. Sera stepped

out after, her large half-full purse slung over her shoulder. "Ah, this is the right establishment," said 

the refined businessman. "Now, Miss Sera, would you please follow me? Your trainer should

be here--unless there was a problem that needed her attention." So they went in.

...

_____In the entrance foyer, Mr. Yin explained his business to the mighty looking cyborg 

seated behind the desk in the foyer. The metal-bodied man nodded and, of course, let them 

pass. Executives of the Society were always welcome! 

_____Beyond the foyer was what was one large rectangular room. Industrial lighting was 

bolted to the metal beams that held up the corrugated metal ceiling--illuminating the space. In 

the middle was a roped-off boxing ring. There were various machines and punching bags set 

up around the ring--some types Sera had seen before, but more of them more odd and strange. 

Of course, cyborg bodies wouldn't need the same type of exercise machines as human bodies 

would... 

_____A human body. Being a human being. It was something Sera knew she would never be 

again. She didn't care if her brain was still "human"; her body was that of a machine. "Hi there, 

Mr. Yin!" came a light, enthusiastic voice. A dark-haired girl had hopped up into the boxing ring 

and was now waving to them--taking Sera's attention away from her thoughts. 

_____From here, Sera could see that the girl in the boxing ring was just beyond her teenage 

years, about twenty or so years old--just about the same age as she was. Big dark eyes 

sparkled out of her happy, pretty face. Her athletic outfit of shorts and tank top revealed an

athletic body--a flat abdomen, lean arms, full and strong-looking legs... Hmm, odd... To 

Sera, the girl's skin looked a bit too pale--a contrast to the dark eyes and long dark hair. 

But she supposed she was cute by most measures, but something wasn't quite right about her.

_____As the new cyborg and Mr. Yin approached the ring, moving down the aisle between

exercise equipment, the girl did a kind of gymnast's move and landed outside of the ring. She

met them half-way. "Good evening, Mr. Yin," said the pale girl. "I got your call about a new 

cyborg who would probably need training." She looked to Sera. "And you must be the 

newsier!" 

_____Mr. Yin nodded. "Good evening to you too, Lissette. And, this is Sera--the new 

cyborg." He gestured to the athletic girl with long dark hair. "Sera, this is Lissette--one of the 

best kickboxers in this entire sector of the city. If not the best kickboxer. She is not a 

professional, but still an excellent fighter." He smiled. "She is also a number one computer 

hacker!"

_____"Oh, come ON, Mr. Yin!" said Lissette. "Gosh, you're really laying on the praise pretty

thick... I'm a better hacker than kickboxer, but I can still teach cyborgs how to fight. Like 

you, Sera! Ha-ha... Whatever level you're at, I'd be glad to give you some instruction. That 

is, when I'm not busy working and running my group." 

_____"Lissette is teaching to you as a personal favor to me," explained Mr. Yin. "Making more

indebted to her. That, and the Society as a whole owes her much more than simply the weekly 

amounts of cash paid her. Thank you, Lissette. And..." The big bodyguard standing behind 

Mr. Yin then leaned forward and whispered something. Mr. Yin nodded. "My bodyguard just 

received a signal that an important executive meeting has been called. I must go. Again, my 

thanks go to you, Lissette. Sera, train well. I hope to see you later." 

_____With that, the businessman turned and strode out. His bodyguard followed behind and

to the side. They were soon gone, leaving along this aisle going between the exercise equipment. 

The door at the far end opened and closed, and they were gone.

_____Hands on hips, the girl commented, "Nice guy, but he's a bit stuffy... I wish he'd loosen 

up a little. He needs a girlfriend!" She put on a big smile, eyes widening. "Well! Okay, Sera, 

let's go over to the ring. We can get started on some instruction. Just SOME. But it's a 

start... Come on!" She turned and began walking briskly. 

_____Enhanced cyborg body or no, Sera had to stride quickly to match the sprightly pace of 

the female kickboxer-hacker. The girl now asked, "Do you have any other experience or 

training? Karate? Tae-Kwon-Do? Maui-Thai?"

_____"Umm, no... I don't know about anything like that," answered Sera. "All of those sound

really complicated. But I know some people who do. What can I learn?"

_____They came to the boxing ring. Lissette hopped up to the platform and got herself into 

the actual fighting area by climbing between the top and bottom ropes. Somewhat less sure of 

herself, Sera copied the procedure. When the new cyborg had finished and was finally in, 

the dark-haired female kickboxer moved over to the center. 

_____"Sera, let me start off by saying that I'll just teach you the basics. The basics of the 

basics, actually. From there, you should be able to make yourself into a good fighter...eventually. 

That is, unless you want to look around for a REAL instructor. Ha-ha... This isn't my real job. 

I'm too busy to make it any sort of full-time deal. I make too much money working with 

computers! 

_____"Anyway, enough about that. Come on over here... Closer." She waited. "Yeah, close

enough. We'll start with a basic martial arts stance, and the basic jab. What you do is you curl 

your fists with your thumbs locked down over your two fingers... Like this." Lissette raised her 

hands--formed into fists--and showed her. She saw Sera cautiously do the same, forming fists 

with her metal hands.

_____"Good! Now you've got two weapons! Now stand like you're going to use them!"

cheered Lissette. "You're right-handed, right? Yeah, I think you are. So what you do for the

basic stance is stand sideways, your right side facing me--like this. Now raise your fists..."

Sera did so. "See, it's easy so far! Now punch straight out with your right fist and let the 

punch snap back."

...

_____From there for the next hour, Lissette was able to teach Sera more on the basic stance,

the left and right jab, along with the low kick. For someone who had never known how to 

fight at all, Sera seemed to be someone able to pick up these basics pretty quickly. 

_____Soon enough, Sera's jabs were tearing the air with speedy skill. Every so often, she 

would try a left or right kick--her rubber-soled cyborg-designed footwear became temporary 

blurs of speed whenever she did. Lissette stood at various points in the ring, assessing Sera's 

performance.

_____"Wow...! This is kind of fun!" said the young cyborg. "Maybe it's this body that makes 

it so easy. Oh yeah!" Swish! Slash! Metal fists and tightly shod feet cut the air.

_____"Ha-ha! Slow down, newsier!" answered Lissette. "Hey, are you SURE this is the first

time you've ever learned how to fight? And what about that body of yours? Plenty of cyborgs

go to the gyms I use, and I can tell how well-designed their insides are by how smoothly they 

move. Little details. And you move very well...especially for someone with a new body."

_____Sera stopped practice-punching and kicking the air. "I don't know how I'm doing this.

Gosh, I thought everybody had it this easy--right?" Lissette smiled and shook her head. "No?

Hmm... I don't know how I'm able to do all of this. Everything is just coming to me, like kids

learn how to walk or birds learn how to fly. Something like that."

_____"Birds, huh?" said Lissette, looking more carefully at the red-haired female cyborg. 

"Hmm... There haven't been birds on this part of the continent for a very long time. And kids,

they learn to walk with the help of parents or older siblings along to help. You seem to have 

been helped somewhere else, somehow. Any ideas?"

_____"Well, I..." Sera tried thinking about it--about the ease with which she had learned these

past few lessons. And she thought about how she had been able to so easily and quickly design

this body of hers. She just kept getting blurred glimpses of that dark other place, the place she

had seen in her dreams. Blurred and vague impressions of a beautiful woman of glowing white

illuminated in gloom. "Just dreams..." she said.

_____"I don't want to be RUDE or anything... But could you speak up just a little bit?" said

Lissette. A pause. "No, wait, I'm sorry. I am being rude. Your life is your own business. I

should just stop being so nosey and continue teaching you. It would have been nice to know 

that you weren't such a weak beginner."

_____"I am... Or I was," said Sera. "Like I said, I just found out that I'm naturally good at 

this. We're both surprised. Hell, I never knew that this kickboxing stuff could be so easy. I 

was too busy earning a living. Sheesh!"

_____"Okay, okay... I'm sorry," said Lissette. "I don't want this temporary working relationship

to go to Hell. Besides, I'm helping you as a favor to Mr. Yin, and I don't want to let him or you

down. Let's start over..." The girl faced away from Sera, combed her dark hair with her fine

fingers, then turned around again. 

_____"Hi, my name is Lissette! Kickboxing is my hobby, and hacking is my job. I can be a 

real bitch sometimes, but I hope I can get people to like me... Even when I'm being obnoxious."

_____Sera giggled. "And my name is Sera! Please don't be mad at me because I'm new at 

being a cyborg. If I step on your toes and break them, I'll just apologize ahead of time! So...

Sorry!"

_____"Ha-ha-ha...! Good, a fresh start!" said Lissette. "Now, if we can keep this up for about

a week, I think you really can be a real kick-butt fighter. Maybe you could even be a match 

for me! Hmm... Nah! But you can try."

_____"A week?" went Sera. "Okay, sounds like fun. If that's all this takes, maybe I should 

have taken a week out to learn this kickboxing." Or maybe, she had still been too busy to do 

all of this. Life changes, including the most radical change of all, forced her to this.

...

_____Fifteen minutes after that, Lissette said that she had to go to one of her club's computer

labs. Sera got her large purse, and the two parted ways in the gym's entrance foyer area--with 

the headband-wearing cyborg still behind the desk and reading newsprint. Oh, he had a 

message for Sera from Mr. Yin. That executive was in a hurry, but he'd left something: a 

quick note on a square of paper, written as spoken over the telephone.

_____It turns out that Mr. Yin was able to do some other things for Sera after the half-hour

executive meeting. Janet, his secretary, had made some calls and done some arranging. Sera

now had a new apartment room in a nearby complex--at slightly lower rent. The apartment

was even pre-furnished. Not that it could make up for all that Sera had lost, but it was a place

to stay--a place for Sera to call "home."

_____Sera reread the message. And the address to the new apartment was just several blocks

from here. Mr. Yin really did look out for her--even though she could never serve him in the 

same way she had before. She smiled, sniffed hard, then walked out of the gym. Maybe she 

could do this after all... 

_____The executive really did care for his employees. If he was to expect the best from them,

he had to treat them with respect--and kindness. He had to look out for them as so they could

continue to be valuable employees of some kind. That, and he cared about people. In these

times, not everyone was sinister and darkened by troubles.

...

4.

...

_____With the sun going down over the city, Joel went over to a downtown nightclub. Dressed 

in his usual outfit of slacks and buttoned white shirt, polished black shoes on his feet (and his dark

hair neatly combed, of course), he walked on down to the loud and cool place--the entrance leading

in from the sidewalk... There was a line at the door: a line of people in casual gear. Most of the

guys wore variations on business suits worn by Feng-Long executives, and the girls were more or less 

stylishly dressed; more amusingly, what they were wearing was about as interesting as what they were 

NOT wearing... So, Hell YES, the young ladies here were very cute. 

_____But…Joel's eyes for love were for only one girl... She could be here, or not here--depending

on chance. Lissette usually spent time in hidden computer labs, hacking the Network and keeping

it from recognizing the existence of this sector of this particular city. And she knew kickboxing--which

she did every day, maybe for appearance's sake. Like her dancing... Yeah, Lissette could DANCE.

But, like her kickboxing, her performances brought too much attention to her. 

_____So she didn't do it to often. Maybe, some day, he would get a private performance? Another

waking fantasy... He could... His mind was drifting in the thought of Lissette dancing beautifully as he 

stepped past the line of people--going up to the club's front door. Could Lissette be in there?

_____It was hard to tell from here. There was a very, very big cyborg at the entrance--the 

bouncer. The massive metal-bodied man was seven and-a-half feet tall, a monster of a being in 

black shoes, black slacks, and sleeveless black shirt. That massive cyborg in spiffy clothing was 

almost as wide as Joel was tall. 

_____And there was a reason as to why the bouncer wore dark clothing: The black clothing, you 

see, didn't show bloodstains. Kicking out unwanted guests could get messy at times.

_____The huge bouncer looked down--way down--at this fleshie who just strutted on up to the 

front of the line. There were glares and looks of annoyance from the people in line, but now that 

annoyance was replaced with anticipation. they wanted to see what would happen to the guy who 

was trying to cut in line. Uncrossing his huge arms, putting fists on hips, the bouncer spoke. 

_____"Good evening, sir," he said to Joel. "I hope you have a useful visit--whatever your purpose 

here." And then he stepped aside. "Please, enjoy your stay." His dark synthetic face even put on 

a smile when he spoke.

_____Joel shrugged. "I always do... And thanks, Hemp. It's nice to know that you recognize 

people like me." He nodded to the gigantic bouncer on the right and the (now-gawking) line of

well-dressed people on the left. He tossed a quick wave of goodbye as he stepped on in. 

...

_____He stepped into the wonderful chaos inside the night club. VERY LOUD club music filled the 

place and the floor. The lights were dim at the tables around the dance floor, people drinking and talking 

and having a good tie. On the dance floor itself, the lights were gyrating blue, yellow and red as 

well-dressed guys and girls danced their dances. 

_____Damn, he didn't see Lissette. He would have spotted her immediately. Hell, there would have 

been a wide-open space for one of her performances. Anyway, he wasn't here to dance. He had a 

different kind of business altogether. 

_____He made his way between the tables and through the loud, blasting music. The drinking bar

was on the other side of this club. Beyond that was the small kitchen that prepared the moderate 

amounts of food that people ate here. The female bartender eyed him and nodded, then let him pass 

beyond the swinging doors and into the white kitchen. She knew who he was...

_____In the kitchen, three white-clad chefs glanced in his direction and promptly continued working

on food at the counter. They didn't say anything when he went into the back--near the refrigerator.

Back there, he opened up a wide four-panel square on the floor and climbed down. The panel 

automatically folded back after some seconds.

_____Standing down here in the darkness, he felt around for something. Ah, he found the handle. 

He gave it a turn and a pull, and the door easily opened. Then he stepped into sleek quiet. This place 

was soundproofed.

...

_____He had used this computer lab quite often. Sure, there was more than one computer lab for

the Parasol Club. But the setups were pretty much all the same: four sit-down computer workstations 

set in a main room, connected to a minicomputer and server set against the wall--a bedroom and 

attached bathroom in a room connected to the lab. But there were seldom more than two 

people at a lab at once. Network bounty hunters--promised cash from the damned computer in 

Zalem--may not have been seen in this sector for several years yet, but the Parasol Club had to 

play it safe: Having all hackers in one lab could be dangerous. 

_____There was just one hacker here, though--the most annoying one of them all. That would be Jake. 

Skinny, tousle-haired Jake. Tee shirt and jeans wrinkled, the crazy-smart teenager was tap- tapping away 

and working on a workstation set at the right side of the room. "Huh-huh-huh..." he said in greeting before 

he snorted and went back to hacking. If Jake was here, then Lissette would probably be coming by. Damn, 

how the HELL did Jake have a better foreknowledge of where Lissette would be?

_____A side-door opened. "HI, JOEL!" said a bright and happy girl's voice. It was Lissette, donning a fresh

blouse and shorts. Her glossy dark hair was still slightly damp; she must have just showered in the lab's

bathroom. "I just got here. And looks like you just did, too. Hmm..." Suddenly taking on a businesslike

manner, she closed the door and moved to sit down at one of the other machines. 

_____Joel pulled up a chair and sat close to Lissette--very close. Her typing was a snappy blur of fingers... 

She called up a file. "Jake found another problem with our big happy friends of the Network. Someone or

something from the damned Network is trying to PING our server. See?" She pointed to a place in the text

file shown on the screen. "It's all in the audited log."

_____"Hmm... I see," said Joel with the thinking part of his mind. Well, most of his mind wasn't in a thinking

mode right now. Most of his consciousness was bathing in the warmth and pleasure of being able to sit so 

close to the girl--close enough to feel the warmth of her body and see the individual strands of her silky long 

dark hair that seemed to flow down her slim back… Close enough to note the flawlessness of her face. Even 

this close, her skin looked flawless. Beautiful skin, at least the skin he could see. He would love to see more of

her. 

_____As for the Network, something dark was happening: The Network had switched security tactics. Instead 

of trying to contact the Network connections in this sector of the city, the Network was now trying to contact 

local servers. And the only servers set up were those of the Parasol Club. Which meant that, despite their 

prolonged efforts, someone--or something--of the Network suspected the existence of the hackers. Even if this

sector of this city was made almost undetectable to the artificial intelligences of the Network, someone--or 

something--was getting too close to finding the club. If that happened, then those damned

bounty hunters wouldn't be far behind.

_____"Huh-huh..." went Jake. He glanced to the right--over at Lissette's screen--then sent an updated 

text file over to the computer workstation she was using. Apparently, that currently unknown user of the

Network had tried to locate the hackers' servers again. And, again, their servers sent back the same 

ERROR message: If you're going have your computers tell lies, the lies have to be consistent. 

_____Lissette faced the fellow hacker sitting close by, a smile on her pretty face. "Well, Joel! We've got 

some more work to do! And, um-m-m..." Her eyes glanced left and right. "Would you please not sit so 

close? You're making me feel a little uncomfortable."

_____"OH! Sorry," he said, scooting back. Embarrassed, he moved himself and his chair over to the third

computer workstation. Jake chuckled, either reacting to the way Lissette chided him or from something he

had done online. Jake was always chuckling, always with the same tone, always the same way. Hard to tell

what that weirdo was trying to say at times. 

_____Anyway, now they had another real problem. They had to try and locate the oddball that was now

trying to connect with them. Damned Network, it was an inconsistent monster. On one hand, the Network

was simple enough to hack with the most basic computer programs: In a world where plenty of people were

practically illiterate, there was no real need seen to have online security. But now, something on the 

Network was getting wise to their game.

...

_____"Pass me that salt, Gale," said the big portly cyborg. With his right hand, he took another swig of

the wine cooler. His left hand grabbed at the salt shaker. He then shook some salt onto the indistinguishable 

and large pile of cooked meat and soggy vegetable-mush on his big plate. Unlike the times when they ate 

people, this meat was not recognizable. At least the vegetable-mush was vaguely identifiable. Using fork

and knife, he scarfed down some of the food. "Vegetables ain't...got flavor...without salt," he said between

swallows.

_____Big Carbon was eating--as usual. Rafter was eating too: soup What Gale was consuming couldn't be 

rightly considered food. What he had on his plate came in the form of a questionably pure white powder. 

Being a cyborg, he had to really suck that shit DEEP to get it down into his artificial lungs. From there, the 

substance would get into his bloodstream, flowing up to and to his living brain. That was why the he had 

such a damned thick straw to suck this stuff with.

_____Dipping his head, straw to nostril, that cyborg in floppy business clothes took another prolonged 

hit of what was on his plate... SNO-O-ORT! "Ack! AHEM...!" The stuff always made him gag a bit, even 

when he was really into it. SNO-O-O-RT! "Ack!" But then came that good old heady rush of pleasure into 

his addled, jacked-up brain. Eyes ridiculously wide open, he let out a shuddering breath. "Ah-h-h-h..." 

_____"Hee-hee!" madly giggled Rafter. "With that all that shit on your nose, it looks like you've tried to 

snort a powdered doughnut! Hee-hee-hee...! Hee-hee-hee!" He took a slurp of his soup. "You've tried 

snorting everything else... Maybe you ought to try putting some powdered sugar up those nostrils of 

yours..."

_____Gale whipped his head left to face Rafter, a wild-eyed look on his face. "REALLY? TELL ME ALL 

ABOUT IT!" His right eyelid twitched a bit, and he shuddered with the slight spasms of someone on a real 

high. 

_____"Hee-hee! Sure…" said Rafter, reassuring his fellow cyborg. There was a prolonged pause as he 

slurped a bit more of his soup, letting the doped-up Gale get impatient. "Haven't you heard? Snorting 

powdered sugar is the best high! They call it a 'sugar rush!' What you have to do is..." 

_____"Hey, cut that out, bastard," growled Carbon, eating some more of whatever it was he was eating. 

Argh-snarf...! Chomp-chomp-chomp.... He swallowed some. "Damn, you know how he gets when he's on 

all that mess he uses. He's already got some fucked-up IDEAS about some fuckin' guy in blue out to get us."

_____"WHA'..? You see the JANITOR? Where? WHERE?" went Gale, gripping the restaurant table and 

looking left and right. Some cyborgs glanced over in this direction, then went back to eating and drinking.

All kinds of crazies around here. You got a bit used to it.

_____"Calm yourself. I ain't seen that damned Janitor," said Carbon. He scooped up a ragged heap of vegetable

matter. Staring at it, he said. "And why the HELL would you be scared of some damned floor-sweeping guy, 

anyway? What's he going to do, beat us to death with a push-broom? Haw-haw-haw!"

_____"He could do that," said Gale, deadly serious. "That, or he could take our oatmeal right out from 

inside our bowls! He's probably not allowed to do that, but we have to watch our oatmeal! He takes oatmeal

into the breeze! That's his job. Someone in another place told me that..."

_____"Shut up and take some more nose candy!" said Rafter. "Yeah, and if you're going to go into spasms,

try not to shake that stuff into my soup. My soup tastes perfect now, and I don't need any miscellaneous

white powdery substances ruining the flavor!"

_____Take some more, he said. Straw up the nostril, he nodded his head forward. Snort-snort.. 

SNO-O-O-RT! "A-h-h-h... That's better…" Then came the hallucinations.

_____These were horrible images, awful stuff! A BAD TRIP! He was seeing things that shouldn't be there: 

sad disembodied faces floating in the air, faces without eyes. And he had the definite idea that he was seeing

dead people. 

_____"GYA-A-AH!" he shouted. "TOO MANY PEOPLE ARE IN THE BREEZE! I can see... I can see...

THEIR FACES! Thank goodness we're inside! More of them are outside! Aargh!" He began to shudder. 

Oh yes, the "snow" was really kicking in now. He was now at the height of his usage this evening. Hopefully, 

it would be all he was going to use before falling into unconsciousness for the night. That damned 

cyborg, he always over-did it. 


	4. Chapter 4: Visits from Dark Winds

The Cinnamon Horizon

by Elliot Bowers

...

Chapter 4: Visits from Dark Winds

...

_____It was late afternoon in the city. Humans and cyborgs, still in the clothes they wore at work, 

were walking along the sidewalks, everything darkened by the long shadows of the buildings around 

here. Heavy vehicles filled the road, transporting locally manufactured goods along the roads. Because 

this sector of the city was independent--not ruled by that damned Network--the sector had to be its 

own self-contained economy. Everything had to be done in this sector--from basic food synthesis to 

food manufacturing to waste recycling. Everything... So the roads were bound to be full of trucks and 

other heavy vehicles, carrying goods and raw materials that could not be transported through pipes.

...

_____Around this traffic-heavy time, Sera had finished another session of kickboxing instruction with 

that dark-haired girl. "Goodbye now!" shouted Lissette, smiling and waving to the young female 

cyborg leaving the gym entrance. "And try to relax! You're doing great! Ha-ha...!" 

_____Sera waved and smiled back, then began her walk back to her new apartment...thinking of 

Lissette. During the lessons, the amateur kickboxer demanded prolonged effort of Sera, but she made 

the time and effort really worth it. And she taught things in a really casual way--as if they have been friends 

forever. There was a pleasant and happy feeling around being with that bright and energetic girl. There was 

something wonderful about being around Lissette that made everything seem okay. Maybe it was the 

way her big dark eyes sparkled when she spoke, or the way she smiled so easily and often.

_____The girl was a new friend. Sera had someone new to confide in now... It could not make up 

for the way Sera's family had been taken from her: Hell no. But it was something to hold onto in her 

new life. It was something that was good and right. 

_____But, everything could only be made right when those three cannibal bastards were dead, dead 

and dead. She knew who THEY were; she had seen them around--and would see them again. 

Oh yes... When she was strong enough, she would kill them... Not yet, though. That was all 

part of her long-term plan. And things would be made right in time. With friends like Mr. Yin and 

Lissette, things were going to be okay. Furthermore, not that Sera knew it at the time, but she also 

had other friends.

...

_____Meanwhile, high above the city streets, someone reclined in a dark office--an office high up in 

one of the three tallest buildings of the city. The floor and walls were of dark marble, with soft white 

lighting from the ceiling gleaming off of the clean surfaces. Framed photographs from various parts 

of the city were set on the walls. The far wall was actually made of reinforced glass, shuttered with 

steel slats of metal: thick blinds. When opened, the blinds would give a wide view of the urban 

skyline off in the distance. 

_____In the middle of this elegant office was a desk of dark wood, REAL wood, behind which sat a woman 

more elegant and austere than the modest furnishings that decorated this place. An elegant and 

beautiful woman, slender and golden-skinned. Today, she was dressed in a white silk dress-suit, 

her dark hair pinned up. Her name was Patsun--Miss Patsun, to those below her.

_____She slowly leaned forward. Using her right hand, she slowly turned up the gold-plated 

knob that controlled the lighting directly over her desk. On the desk itself, besides the computer

terminal, there was a typed letter from Mr. Yin. Though she had read it several times before, she

read it yet again.

_____It was about that "special case" that she had come to hear about--a case of hardship.

Sure, everyone had troubles these days. Everyone alive had to try and keep moving on. And 

despite the efforts of the Feng Long Society to keep the liberated citizens happy and satisfied, 

problems of violence and suffering still remained. Since the Society would not resort to something

so brutal and harsh as hiring cyborg bounty hunters--like the Network--they had to use a system 

of hired enforcers: street-toughs on a regular wage, paid to make sure people were not doing 

harmful and dark things to each other. 

_____But the enforcers could not stop everything. And, sometimes, the enforcers themselves

became the problem. They WERE thugs, after all. The majority of them did their part and 

enforced the will of the Feng-Long society in keeping the city's citizens relatively safe. Not 

all of the enforcers could be trusted. And that was true for the case of three who had gone rogue.

_____For some time now, it had been suspected by other enforcers that those three were to blame 

for certain acts of murder and cannibalism. It was somewhat difficult to get enforcers to report

each others' activities, and this wasn't confirmed until recently. And when those three had 

destroyed the life of a highly valued employee, they had done too much. The random murdering 

of some citizens would be one thing; harming the life of a highly valued employee was another thing.

_____Patsun's dark eyes narrowed. Of course, the three enforcers were readily identified. For

several weeks now, those three had done too much. She hesitated at calling cyborgs "monsters,"

but in this case... It was true. Three cyborgs had simply become monsters. Periods of misbehavior

could be tolerated by the Society--but only so far. And when that tolerance was passed...

_____The elegant, golden-skinned woman laid back in her dark seat. Hmm... Yes... Something 

would have to be done about those three. Of course, one of their latest victims was preparing to 

seek revenge herself--having made herself into a sleek cyborg for just that. Though Mr. Yin was 

there to help the young new cyborg in her vengeance, more could be done to help the process along. 

This was going to be business.

_____It would be easy and simple to just have those three crazy shitheads hunted down and shot 

to death: shot up with the newly developed ceramic bullets manufactured locally. That would be 

too easy and too merciful. Patsun was not in the mood for mercy in this case. Those three

troublemakers would have to see their deaths coming from a distance. And when it was time for 

them to die, they would know why.

_____That beautiful and elegant woman smiled, but it was not a pleasant one. There was 

something dark in that smile on her face--a smile as dark as the thoughts behind it. Hmm… 

_____She took something out of one of her desk drawers--a drawer lined with red velvet. 

Something was in the drawer, set upon a small pillow. She carefully took the object off of the

small pillow, taking it out of the drawer. And she set atop her desk... It looked like a simple 

gray radio. Worse yet, it looked as if the thing was too many years old: Its case was chipped

in places, the on switch was replaced with a wadded piece of tape, and the little metal antenna

was snapped off. But there was more to this radio than just its actual parts. 

_____As she leaned back, her mind went to the radio. Her sleepy mind drifted. With that 

dark weirdness that dreams tended to bring on, she found her mind somehow floating into the 

decrepit little radio, then her thoughts swirled as dark as the oncoming city night. The sun 

was just setting outside the grand windows. She heard distant screams and had glimpses of 

horrible faces in the breeze--a nightmare coming! But she did not try to wake herself. There

was no turning back from the sleep. The woman was being pulled down into a dark dream, 

into the radio and beyond...

...

_____There were sidewalk restaurants and cafes close to this tall office building. As it was after 

the end of the business day, plenty of people--humans and cyborgs still in work clothes--were out

and around. Those eating at the outdoor seats felt that strange wind that just blew between the 

buildings and through the streets... What an odd wind. It made some people shudder, though it 

was quite a warm day. And some people began to feel a little sick. Pollution? No, something 

else was happening.

...

_____Patsun found herself in that other place--that place found through darkened shadows of

the night and darker dreams. There were sounds all around in the darkness and the gloom. It 

was hard to tell, but one would get the idea that there were plenty of others around here. There

were other people here, whispering and chittering in the darkness. 

_____Then came a blast of spotlight. In the light, the Dream Woman stood upon a round 

wooden table. The slender woman had on the same kind of sleeveless silken gown, and her 

skin was still as pale-white as her long hair. But her gown was not as pure white as it usually 

was... This time, had a slightly more pink tone to it. Her red eyes glinted maliciously, and then 

she spoke. 

_____"Ha-ha-ha...! HIS fellow workers will be made very busy within the next six-by-thirty days," 

she said. "As you stand and think, HE and THEY are already working! Taking servings of oatmeal 

from broken bowls and carrying them through the breeze!"

_____What the Hell? Patsun was vaguely confused about this. But this was another place, and 

she didn't think much of it. Regardless of how darkly odd the Dream Woman's speech was, Patsun 

just accepted it. Under any other circumstances, this situation would have been simply crazy: nuts. 

A glowingly beautiful woman with strange red eyes, standing atop a wooden table, talking insanely. 

But this was just the way dreams went: She just accepted things, regardless of how damnably

weird they were. 

_____So there was really nothing to say about how The Janitor suddenly appeared in a swirl of 

white mist that poured into the spotlight from the darkness. And appear he did, coming into focus

as the white mist dissipated.

_____There he stood in his outfit of blue coveralls and work-clothes--his wooden-handled broom 

carried on his right shoulder. The bill of his blue cap shadowed most of his swarthy face, hiding his

expression. He now lifted his broom from his right shoulder, clutched it in his hand and raised it up.

_____And the Dream Woman laughed again. "Ha-ha-ha! Because, after the wind continues to 

blow, there will be almost no bowls unbroken. Watch and see as only The Janitor and his like...will

be...victorious! They always are!" She then snapped her fingers and pointed in Patsun's direction

with both hands.

_____As if the push-broom was a spear, the Janitor lowered it and began walking towards Patsun.

Patsun did not run. Where could she? She had the idea that she was surrounded by people in

the darkness--people she could not see. Besides, she did not want to run. She could not run and 

was taken away...

...

_____...There was the sound of static. CRACKLE-CRASH! HIS-S-S... She sat up! Blinking 

and dizzy, the businesswoman looked at the beat-up little radio atop her clean and sleek desk--set 

next to the screen of her computer terminal. The little old radio was making plenty of noise. 

As she stared at it, the noise died down and began to fade. Then it went completely silent. So broken 

up inside, the cracked little thing should not make any noise at all. 

_____Squinting, she turned the gold-plated knob at the side of her desk that turned up the lights in

this office. Then, very carefully, she picked up the radio and looked at its various sides. There were

no new cracks or chips in the plastic case, and it felt very cold. As if the device were put into 

a freezer, next to a fan.

_____But it always became cold after she used it. The little radio worked just fine--at least, 

the way Patsun was able to use it. It was very dear to her. She sometimes had a nasty 

image of a metal hand crushing the small little electronic device, someone destroying the little 

radio.

_____No, she had to keep the radio. She had the idea that her employees wondered why she kept

the old, beat-up thing in a velvet-lined drawer--a drawer that automatically locked whenever she

left her office. It was because the little radio was able to get her certain valuable information that 

she found very helpful. 

_____This latest information was very disturbing. She had never heard HER, the Dream Woman,

talk that way before. And her gown tended to change trouble when changes were happening. 

Good or evil, it was hard to tell what the color changes meant. But it could not be good. When it 

came to surprises, not much good came out of these days.

...

2.

...

_____Sera awoke early that morning--very early. It was still about two hours before sunrise, but 

there was no sleeping for her--especially after a dream like THAT. It was just such a dark dream, 

so heavy with sad feelings and very important. But HOW it was, she was not sure. She just had these

feelings of things not being right... 

_____Sighing, she pushed aside the bedcovers and got out of bed--standing in her dimly lit bedroom.

The still-new carpet padded her solid metal feet. Looking back at her bed in the glow of the night-light,

she saw that her sheets looked barely touched--as if she really wasn't in bed most of the night. Normally, 

she'd ruin whatever bed she slept in--especially after nights out with clients: with her previous self, she 

slept mornings away before going in to speak with her boss. But nowadays, things were different. And 

they would always be different...for the rest of her life. 

_____Like this new apartment, she could never go back to her original one--which was burned and 

ruined. This apartment was still so new to Sera that she felt a bit uncomfortable walking around here. 

It was barely lived in: Beyond the furniture, it looked as if no one really lived here. 

_____She stepped in front of the dresser drawer--full of new clothes. Clothes? She felt silly, since 

being a cyborg meant that she really had nothing to hide. Why did she put on a sleeping gown? It 

still felt like she was wearing some kind of tight-fitting armor over a flesh body, and wearing a night-gown

over armor was silly. 

_____Hmm... She had noticed that most all of the cyborgs in town wore clothes. Maybe, after a 

while, she would really feel as if her electromechanical body was hers and had to cover it. But not now.

Her body still didn't feel like...herself.

_____What if she didn't wear clothes? A "naked" metal body only resembled armor. Bare curves of 

metal, nothing obscene. Sure, she had the physical proportions and shape of her human body, but 

that was it. She was, physically, a machine. Beyond a living brain, all of her was artificial. And unless 

someone recovered the technology for making entire bodies of synthetic flesh--instead of just faces... 

No!

_____Don't hope for what could ever be! She stepped over to the simple wall mirror, looking at 

herself in the dim gloom--the light coming from dim pink night-light attached to the wall. Her artificial 

eyesight compensated somewhat, though it made her see everything in a somewhat less colorful tone. 

But she could see herself in the mirror. She saw her metal-bodied self: long red hair framing her face, 

her body being armored gray from the neck down. Her human body may have been loved and 

desired, but it was such a weak one. The flesh is weak. 

_____She clenched her fists and raised them as so she could see them directly--the gray fingers, the 

metal joints. These were like articulate gauntlets, these hands. Reinforced round studs of metal were 

fitted over her finely crafted finger-joints and sharp knuckles. Lowering her fists, her eyes again went 

to the mirror--still trying to fully realize that this was her. 

_____KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK... Her face whipped to the left, her eyes focusing on the white 

door of this bedroom. The knocking was really at the front door, echoing through the front room of 

the apartment. Six more knocks echoed. 

_____She opened the bedroom door and stepped into the simply furnished front room. Likely, whoever

was at the door at this awful hour meant business. If they were dangerous, they could have just

knocked it down. So she was quick to get over to the door and opened it.

_____The hallway outside of the apartment was brightly lit. Standing out there were three 

professional-looking men in expensive dark business suits stood at the door--their metal hands 

being the only exposed signs that they were metal-bodied, too. "Good morning, Miss Sera," said

one of them--tall, with crew-cut dark hair. "Would you please come with us? You are scheduled to 

have your last scheduled lesson with your instructor today, and we do not want you to miss it."

_____"Huh? Well, I..." This visit from messengers of the Society was a bit unusual. Sera thought 

that her kickboxing lessons were a bit on the informal side. Lissette was always so happy and casual 

with her, and that made the lessons fun. She cleared her throat and clasped her hands in front of herself. "Ahem... I'm sorry, I didn't 

know that I was on a schedule with Lissette. The way she was teaching me, she didn't tell me there 

was, like, a SCHEDULE. You know?"

_____The first messenger put on a faint hint of a smile. "Maybe, she didn't know herself. But a very

important executive has made some decisions regarding your activities with her. Lissette is one of 

the more valuable hackers, and so her time is, ah...LIMITED in some relationships and friendships."

_____Standing close by, the second messenger added. "What we're trying to say is, how 

Lissette spends her time is in the interest of the Society. We don't control her life or anything like 

that, but well..." He shrugged. "It's just business. No offense, miss."

_____Sera's emotional reaction was just that: a reaction. There was no hiding how she felt at this news.

She suddenly looked down at the carpeted floor--eyes looking at the way the carpeting of her apartment 

met the carpeting of the hallway. Sera really wanted to continue those lessons. Not only did this past 

week with Lissette mean lessons that strengthened her, but the lessons also meant being WITH her. 

_____Now, she was being told that this was going to be her last lesson with Lissette. Furthermore,

she was being told to stay away from her. Sera felt as if she was losing the best friend in the world. 

It wasn't as if Lissette was going to be KILLED or anything. (Ha, it would be interesting to see 

someone TRY--how long they would last against Lissette's uncanny fighting skills.) But this was it, and 

Sera felt as if she had only started to know that dynamic and wonderful girl. She was losing too many 

people these days.

_____One good thing about being a cyborg, tears were a lot easier to hold back. Sniffing, Sera again 

met the stare of the three patient messenger. "I understand," she said. "Let me get my day-purse, and 

I'll be right with you. Okay?" She then left the door just slightly open, a slit of light coming into the 

apartment front room as she went back in. 

_____Okay... The first messenger then crossed his arms, and the second put his hands in his pockets.

The third one shrugged and just looked around. They could tell that Sera was a new cyborg: no 

clothes at all. At least, she could have worn a scarf or something to hide where the synthetic flesh 

of her face and scalp was sealed to her metal neck. Plenty of metal-bodied people went around 

without too much clothing, but they all usually wore something. This one wasn't wearing anything. 

_____Then she came back. "Sorry, guys. I just had a little trouble finding my key," she said as she 

stepped out of her apartment, the thin strap of a small purse slung over her left shoulder. She closed 

the apartment door and used her key to lock it. "Okay, let's go."

...

_____"Hee hee hee!" giggled that skinny cyborg in skinny business suit. It was Rafter, sitting 

all alone at the bar. In fact, other than that somberly dressed bartender with the blonde hair, 

there was no one else here. Rafter was giggling to himself, a sharp grin on his sharp face. He 

took another hit of his drink--a Bloody Mary served in a very large mug. Giggling, he set down 

his drink with the carefulness of someone thoroughly wasted. Sixty minutes before sunrise, and 

he was already drunk.

_____Drunk? Hell, that cyborg was WASTED. "Hee-hee!" He blinked and looked over

at the bartender--who stood with arms crossed. Had his eyesight not been smeared by the

effects of prolonged toping, he would have been able to better-appreciate the cuteness of the 

female bartender. 

_____Cute… Beautiful…. She was a slim, somewhat petit woman with sea-green eyes and a 

cute face, her blonde hair flowing down her slim back to her waist. The slim femininity of her 

figure was a bit obscured by the clothing she wore--dark slacks, and black vest over a pure 

white buttoned shirt. In a far-gone century, she looked as if she would have still been in 

school--high school or college. But that time was long-gone. These days, if you could do a 

job, you did it.

_____"Hee-hee!" HICCUP! "Why th' HELL d'you dress like a man?" asked Rafter. BELCH!

"I do-o-n't th-think I know-w-w any-body like y-you! Pretty little girl-woman, dressin' like a man!

Hee-hee! Li' you're playin' dress-up!" BELCH! 

_____The female bartender smiled. "Ha ha... Maybe I simply came into these clothes? Anyway,

let me throw some criticism back at you. What if I said it was too early in the morning to be drunk? 

Hmm?" She picked up a large green bottle and stepped closer to this end of the bar. "All of this 

drinking, you must be getting an early start on your day..." 

_____"Wha' would YOU know...about my day, BITCH?" said Rafter. BURP! "I have...been doin'

my job ALL...DAMN...NIGHT!" Hiccup! Right hand moving unsteadily, he somehow managed to 

raised his mug to his slobbering synthetic lips--and drank off the rest of his drink. "Bein' an enforcer 

is thirsty work! Workin' all damn night..."

_____She poured the drunken cyborg another drink from the bottle: more Bloody Mary. As the 

bottle was so large, the young lady had to use both hands to pour it. "I work nights, too. I know all

about it. In fact, maybe I know more than you think." She set down the bottle.

_____Glug... Urp! "Hee hee! Whatever, bitch! WHATEVER! I'm TELLIN' you! You just 

do-o-on't know," countered Rafter, slurring the words. This time, he dipped his head down so he 

didn't have to lift his glass up so high to drink. Glug-glug-glug... Then a thought hit him--a revelation.

Yeah… YEAH!

_____Yeah, WAIT A MINUTE! What the fuck? Since when did damned Bloody Mary drinks 

come pre-made in bottles around here? Bartenders ALWAYS prepared drinks, by hand, from the 

basic ingredients available. Like, where was the (synthetic) tomato juice for the drink he was drinking? 

Rafter was drunk, sure enough! But he still had enough state of mind to know some things were not 

quite right here. What was also weird was how he could have SWORN that the bartender had been 

serving him from the same damned bottle all night.

_____An indoor breeze blew, and the cyborg shuddered. The female bartender winked once, green 

eyes sparkling. "You feel something, don't you? Something in the wind? There are things in the 

breeze at times, you know." She nodded. "Oh yes... Things in the breeze that you can't see."

_____Hiccup? A questioning, puzzled look came to Rafter's face. "What the HELL are you talkin' 

about? Bitch, tha' was just a COLD breeze! G-get it? COLD. Cold, not like these fuckin' warm 

drinks you served me. Too...damn' warm! Like you held 'em between those little tits of yours before 

you served 'em."

_____"REALLY now?" said the bartender. Her smile became a leer. "You really are a NASTY one, 

aren't you? It looks like having your body replaced also changed your attitude! You didn't talk to 

your mother or last girlfriend that way, I know."

_____Rafter quickly swallowed his latest gulp. "WHA-A-T! Shut your third cock-hole! I'm a 

cyborg and I outlived both of 'em! My girlfrien' and my momma have BOTH been dead for 'bout...

What was it? Fifty or sixty…?" Hiccup! Then he stopped. "Wait a minute... Wai' jus' a

GOD-DAMNED MINUTE!" Shaking and quivering with anger for a minute, the wild-eyed cyborg 

eventually met the bartender's calm, green-eyed stare. In a low voice, he asked, "How the Hell d'you 

know about...th-them?"

_____To that she smiled. Then she opened her mouth as if to answer--and paused. Instead, she said,

"I tried to tell you, I know a lot of things... Oh, would you look at that! You're going to have company!" 

She looked towards the entrance--beyond the six square tables where other customers would sit. "By 

the way, would you please not mention 'Hell' so often?"

_____Hiccup-BELCH! "Wha' the HELL?" said Rafter. There was the distinct sound of the bar 

door opening, and there was a rush of blowing air. He whipped his head around to look at the 

door, and nearly fell off of his stool. In walked six business-suited figures, who looked like tall 

black blurs to the drunken eyes to Rafter. Hee-hee…! Look, more blurry people for the drunk 

cyborg to talk with!

_____But these just weren't any people. Obviously, the newcomers were messengers of the 

Society. They were professionally dressed, of similar height and build--cyborg build. Bare metal 

hands were exposed beyond the cuffs of their suits-jackets. 

_____They took up positions. Two of them sat on the stools left and right of Rafter. One of 

them stood directly behind him. And one of them began walking to the side. Two more moved 

over to the door. They did this in a dark and professional manner--orchestrated and organized.

_____"Hey, bitch!" BELCH! "Get a LOAD of these guys. Walkin' on into this place like they

OWN IT!" Hiccup! "Hi, guys! H-how's business? Still rootin' for th' greatness of the Feng-Long 

Society, eh?" Hiccup! "Bartender-bitch, serve 'em drinks. On me!"

_____One of the dark-suited figures had moved to stand behind the bar--standing next to the pretty 

bartender. "Mister Rafter, you have had quite enough to drink. But now, you have business to attend 

to!" The messenger looked left and down at the bartender. She really was pretty short… "Hello. He 

really did have too much to drink, didn't he?"

_____She smiled. "Not really. I've only served him what was in this single bottle." Still using both 

hands, she lifted the glassy green bottle. "And it was all he drank last night. He must have a pretty 

low tolerance for this." She sighed. "Indeed, he is not a big serving."

_____"Wha' did you say?" asked Rafter. "Wha' the FUCK is that s'pposed to mean?" Not a big 

serving? There was something in what the bartender said. He would never know--because there 

were soon solid hands gripping his shoulders. But they didn't jostle him, and the gesture looked 

vaguely friendly--hiccup! "Hey guys, I li' you all, too. Hugs all aroun'!"

_____The messenger standing next to the bartender looked down at her. "We think he's REALLY 

had too much. Now, we'll just be off to the gym. He's going to need some exercise to work off that 

alcohol."

_____The bartender tilted her head and crossed her slim arms. "Tell me about it," she answered.

Then she began tapping her foot. "By the way, he has a really bad mouth. Could you get it fixed?"

_____"It's going to be fixed, all right!" said another messenger of the group. "In fact, we're 

going to see him fixed up in a way he's never been fixed before! Ha-ha-ha...!" To that, the other

messengers all had themselves a laugh--still gripping the skinny cyborg. 

_____The messenger behind the bar nodded to his comrades. Then they lifted Rafter up by the 

shoulders and dragged his drunken ass away from the bar and over to the door. Damn it, he dropped 

his mug, too! The red drink splashed all over his clothes and the floor before they got him out the door.

_____The messenger here shook his head. "We're sorry about the mess, ma'am." He reached into 

an inner vest-pocket, took out a mid-value credit-chip and set it atop the bar. "This ought 

to pay for whatever drinks he's had--plus any of the vomit and other mess he's probably made.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be going on my way. Business calls..." He then stepped out 

from behind the bar--began to leave.

_____Smiling, the pretty blonde bartender looked on as he left--walking between the square 

tables--getting over to the door. He opened it and was gone. "I must be going, too." There was 

a rush of wind, and she suddenly wasn't there anymore. Neither was the large green bottle. 

...

3.

...

_____Over at Gold's Gym, in the main atrium, most of the lights were turned off. The only 

bright lights left on here were the ones that shone down on the boxing ring itself. Compared

to the rest of the place, the ring looked as if lit by spotlights. Everything else was covered in gloom 

and darkness. All around, the mechanical exercise equipment in this place was in the shadows--making 

the contraptions look odd and vaguely menacing. Really dim lighting was funny that way, making 

ordinary things look different.

_____Before coming here, Lissette was talking to some friends at a night club. Then she was 

"asked" to come here. Well, the messengers "asked" in the way that a dragon would ask a kitten 

to step into a cage. Lissette didn't really want to find out what would happen to her if she said no.

_____ Then again, the result of saying NO would have probably involved nine dead messengers 

and some very, very angry executives. So here she sat, placed at one of the ring-side seats--in the 

clothes she wore at the club hours ago. Jean-shorts and sleeveless blouse showed off her shapely, 

beautiful figure. Her dark hair was supposed to be styled as so it framed her face, but now she just 

pinned it up into a ponytail. At least she was allowed to wash off her makeup before they took her 

over here. 

_____"Hmm-m-m... Hey, do you think I look like a mess?" she asked the dark-suited cyborg to her 

left, arms crossed. He turned his head away from the ring to look at her. A smirk. "Well, I was just 

ASKING..." she said. "Stuff like this is important to a girl."

_____"You look nice," he said. Then he went back to staring at the fighting ring--waiting. And

that was it. Lissette looked "nice." 

_____Nice? NICE? He had no comments on anything. Maybe she had forgotten to clean off some 

makeup before coming here? Or was her blouse getting too wrinkled? Nope, he just said NICE. If 

she stripped down to her panties and bra and hopped onto his lap, would she get more of an emotional 

reaction out of him? Probably not; Feng-Long messengers were pretty severe people. Well-l-l, what 

if she...

_____Cl-click... There was the distant sound of doors being opened. That was followed by 

the sound of some murmuring wafting across the darkened space of the gym. Lissette listened

carefully, hearing two newly arrived familiar voices. One voice was more familiar than the other. That 

would be why Lissette was here.

_____There was going to be an arranged contest. And from the dark attitudes of the messengers

around here, she didn't think that this contest was going to be a card game. This was probably 

going to be a forced duel. But a duel between who? 

_____There were sounds of footsteps coming down one of the aisles that between the groups of 

exercise equipment. Lissette sat up and craned her neck to see a familiar person being escorted 

through the gloom by three messengers. Could it be?

_____Yes, it was. As the group approached the ring, Lissette could better see that it really was 

the young cyborg she had recently taught--trained in basic kickboxing. 

_____Sera stepped up to the ring and climbed into it. Her long red hair shimmered in the bright 

light, flowing down her armored metal back. She turned and looked... Her eyes widened when she 

saw Lissette. Then she nodded, understanding . If Lissette really was here, then Sera felt that she 

could do whatever the messengers had arranged for her.

_____The messengers sitting nearby put their hands on her shoulders. She could feel the armored 

fingers through the thin material of her blouse. She was the president of the Parasol Club! This was no 

way to handle her! Then her shock deepened when they moved her closer to the ring. 

_____Oh my God… The Society had done some pretty dark things before, but this was probably

their darkest thing yet. Were they going to make her fight? NO, they couldn't! This was WRONG! 

_____She was about to say something when one of the messengers spoke up. "We were told to 

make you be the judge," said the one on her right. Then he and the other one released their grips on 

her shoulders. "You just have to be close enough to make sure that one or the other is destroyed. 

Brain and all."

_____"One or...the other?" she asked, questioningly. "What other? Then came her answer. The 

messengers didn't have to say anything--especially with all of the racket that jerk was making now. 

Someone was being handled much more harshly than Lissette had been.

_____"I can walk MYSELF, you fashion-stiff freaks! Argh!" came another familiar voice. There 

were uneven and shuffling steps coming into the main room of the gym, from the left side.

"I may not b-be SOBER, but I can kick your..." BELCH... "Kick any ass, any day! Rrgh..." The

messengers then practically dragged him the rest of the way to the ring.

_____Once the thin, business-suited cyborg was close to the ring, they lifted and pushed him 

in. He scrambled to his feet, then his eyes first went to the only "fleshie" here, Lissette--standing 

ringside. Her face and shoulders were barely visible above the lip of the fighting platform. "Lissette? 

You're in on this too, huh? Argh... If I had a cock, I'd SHOVE IT so far up in you that the tip would 

come out your mouth!"

_____Lissette gasped, shocked. Then she became very, very angry. "Oh, you JERK! OOH! As 

soon as I get into the ring, you're DEAD! I'll kick off your crazy head, put it in a bag, and sell it! Sell 

your head to the nearest Motorball Arena for THEM TO USE...! Ow! LET ME GO! Let me in 

the ring! He's DEAD!" 

_____The two messengers had to struggle to keep the angry girl from getting into the ring. Pretty strong

for a fleshie, though she didn't look it. They heard her shout, "Sera, I want him dead! Just for saying that! 

Do you hear me? Use all the killing blows you want! Hell, use ALL the ones I taught you--even AFTER 

his ass is toast!"

_____"Hee-hee-hee... I wonder how Lissette's going to taste?" voiced the psychotic cyborg, swaying 

slightly and licking his lips. He swung himself around to face Sera. "Can't decide if I want to start with 

her sexy thighs, or her nice ass first... Of course, after I'm done with her, there'll be plenty of room in 

my quick-digest gut-tank for your brain... Hee-hee!" BELCH. "There was plenty of room for 

THEM that special night last week!"

_____Sera's large eyes narrowed, becoming angry slits. Yes-s-s... This was definitely one of those 

she was looking for. She clenched her fists, her electromechanical body becoming rigid. Though she 

had never actually fought anyone before, for real, she swore with her life to destroy this one and his 

two close comrades. Or maybe she would just smash his body, then eat HIS brain? That would 

probably be the tastiest thing she ever eaten in her life--her human life, or her new one. So began the 

fight.

...

_____Sera moved within six steps of the skeletally thin cyborg--raised her fists and took up that

basic stance she had learned--her right side facing her opponent. "Hee hee hee...!" She heard 

him giggle as he tried to stand straight up. Instead, he swayed and swerved. The left side of his face 

tried to smile while the right side twitched, right eyelid flicking. 

_____"Hee-hee!" BU-R-RP! He took two staggering steps towards Sera. "I'm going to rock your 

world! Hee hee! Gonna use that pretty face and hair of yours and make a KITE! A face flappin' in 

the breeze...like that crazy shit Gale talks about! In the breeze!" He stopped within just a meter's 

distance--the right side of his face still twitching.

_____"Shut up!" shouted Sera. She lashed straight out with her left hand--hoping to punch right 

through him! THWACK... Sera saw an explosively sharp flash of light. 

_____When her vision cleared, the female cyborg was looking up straight up at the bright lights 

over the ring. She could feel the flat ring under her. There was the sound of Lissette shouting 

something, but Sera couldn't hear exactly what: Her hearing was too covered up by an odd 

crackling and ringing sound. 

_____When the crackling stopped, she quickly got to her feet. The bastard just knocked her down,

that's all. She could still fight.

_____BURP! "I'm quick as the breeze!" declared the skinny cyborg. "Watch! Whe-e-e-e!" His 

thin arms then seemed to disappear for some seconds--before reappearing, fists clenched. Rafter was 

able to move his arms so swiftly that they could blur--whipping around faster than eyes could follow. 

When he stopped whipping his arms around, the material of his jacket smoked--especially up around 

his shoulder-joints. "Quick as the wind and...f-faster than you!" Belch…

_____As if to prove his point, he took another step towards Sera. CRACK! She saw another 

bright flash and felt a blast pain--staggering back...before recovering her balance. Her right arm had 

taken the hit, and there was a cuttingly thin dent in the armor where the triceps mechanism was. She 

didn't even see him hit

_____"Can't block what you can't see, can you?" HICCUP! "Hee hee hee... Damn, I can taste 

sweet victory already..." Belch... "Because that's the way brains taste--SWEET! Mmm-mmh! 

Ta-a-asty!" He put his hands on his hips. "Oh, but YOU wouldn't know! You've never had brains to 

eat before, have you? Hee-hee-hee-hee-hee…!" 

_____Thwack! Sera's kick caught Rafter mid-giggle, right in the abdomen! The metal sole of her 

right foot made for a really solid hit! She then returned to her basic stance while Rafter clutched his 

abdomen and gasped. A tight smile came to her face. Hitting that skinny jerk felt goo-o-od. 

_____Still bent over, he looked up at her and staggered back. Now, the twitching on the right side 

of his face was out of control. He tried moving his mouth, but a reddish mush came up instead--bubbling 

from between his lips. He stared at the stuff in shock, coming to a dark realization: That bitch 

bartender was in on it too! She had gotten him drunk with some weird shit before the messengers 

came to get him!

_____That bartender bitch! After this match, he was going to KILL her. Rip her cute blonde head 

off her body and drink the blood straight from the neck-stump. First, he had to DO this red-head…

Staggering and angry, he began his approach.

_____He tried to move his arms--but he couldn't move them as fast. Something inside him was 

damaged. Whip-THWACK! Another one of Sera's kicks, and Rafter went skidding back. Then he 

sat down hard. Some more miscolored vomit came up out of his mouth and further ruined his 

vomit-stained dress shirt and jacket. O-O-OH! He tried to stand up, then found he couldn't quite get 

his legs to work.

_____Lowering her fists, Sera made a rush towards the sitting freak. She pulled back her right

foot, then KICKED. The blow tore a jagged piece off of his jacket and white shirt, striking the metal 

chest beneath. And the damage went deeper than that, leaving him unable to breathe. Which was 

perfectly fine, because it let her finish him off without interruption.

_____She stepped closer and BLASTED the back of her fist across his face. His head was whipped 

to the left, eyes bugging wide open. A few sparks snapped across his collar, and then he fell onto his 

back. He wasn't dead, since his mouth was still moving. 

_____That meant the brain was still...fucking...alive! Sera put one foot to the right of Rafter, one foot 

to the left. She then sat astride his chest, her metal thighs beginning to SQUEEZE. 

_____Rafter's eyes began to close... Then things began to get weird. The sounds of Sera grunting 

above him and the sounds of his own body beginning to break down began to fade away. He began 

to hear a rhythmic swish-swish-swish sort of sound. Hell, why was he hearing SWEEPING? Didn't 

that bastard with the broom realize that there was a FIGHT going on?

_____With an effort, he was able to get his head to loll to the right. It was getting hard to see, but 

Rafter saw that there was definitely someone else in the ring. And for some reason, he was very afraid. 

Turning his head to the side, he was able to see HIM coming. If he was able to, Rafter would have 

SCREAMED. Instead, he felt darkness closing over him and the sound of wind filling his mind--just as 

Sera's metal fists began slamming against his face.

____Thighs still clamping, metal buttocks still hard on his chest, Sera continued SLAMMING her fists 

into the ruined synthetic face of Rafter. Now, the "face" was just a few pale scraps of synthetic flesh 

on the front end of a badly dented metal skull. As she continued to HIT and HIT and HIT, there were 

soon gaps in the metal where squashed brain-matter began to ooze out.

_____Sera then leaned forward as so her angry face was inches from the ruined one of Rafter. "YOU 

KILLER! KILLING MY FAMILY! YOU KILLED THEM AND ATE THEM!" Her red hair in 

disarray, almost covering her face, she continued to ruin the skull of the already-dead cyborg. 

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! This time, her punches were angrier swinging blows. 

_____A full minute of this passed, and then she stopped. She gave a toss of her head to get some 

lengths of her hair away from her eyes, stood up. Rafter wasn't moving. He would never move again, 

not in this lifetime. Or rather, he looked like an "it." The head was a dented and oozing mess that did 

not even look vaguely human anymore--because it wasn't. He--or it--had become a monsterous 

cyborg, died a monster.

_____She stared down at the mess. The stillness of the body, the wet mush leaking around the 

head, the puddling stain around the body... It was a real mess on the light gray cloth that covered 

the floor of this fighting ring. "You are dead," she said to the body. And she stood there. Realizing...

_____For the first time in her life, Sera had KILLED someone. She had used her fists to beat and

kill. Now someone was dead. One person dead to balance the life of three others. This made her 

feel a little different. But not much different. Should she feel different? Having killed? Not really. 

_____"You are dead," she said again. She gave the dead metal corpse a final kick in the head before 

she began walking away. Now... Where would she find those other two bastards?

…

_____Meanwhile, the Janitor stood in the shadows--standing in a distant corner of the darkened

gym. The dark blue of his work-clothes and hat blended with the darkness. His broom over 

his right shoulder, his left hand was over whatever it was that was in his left pocket. Yes, something

really was in that pocket--something that looked ALIVE.

_____It looked like a big lump within the Janitor's left coverall pocket, squirming and struggling, 

making little whining sounds as it tried to escape. You see, the Janitor found it in the ring--after the 

fight in which Sera had killed Rafter. Now it was doing its damned best to try and get out! Because, 

the thing was damned AFRAID of the Janitor!

_____But the Janitor just smiled a dark smile. His lips took on the same sort of shape a zipper takes 

on a closed body bag. He turned, there was a blast of air... No one knew the Janitor was there, and 

so no one noticed when he left. He had claimed what he had come for.

...

4.

...

_____After the duel, Lissette watched the messengers escort Sera away. With the messengers' metal

hands on her shoulders, that young red-haired cyborg looked a little lost. Lissette supposed it was the

first time Sera had killed someone. A few years back--when the Network was running things in this 

sector--seeing people being murdered was something everyone saw. Though killing a brain was one 

of just several crimes under the Network, it still happened. One would think that people would get used 

to killing and death all around. But maybe, not when someone was killed with your own fists.

_____Hmm... There was the familiar sound of the gym's entrance doors opening. Lissette turned and

almost decided to follow the messengers to wherever they were taking Sera. Almost decided, but 

she stopped herself. Well, they would probably take the cyborg home before telling their superiors 

that the organized duel was over.

_____The messengers were now gone. That left Lissette in the gym with... She turned around and 

faced the ring. "Eww-w-w!" she said aloud. Like, couldn't the messenger-guys have hired somebody 

to clean up that mess? 

_____The corpse up in the fighting ring WAS a mess--pretty disgusting. Just look at it! The way-skinny

body was all sprawled out, and the head was a smashed-up mess. Brains were leaking out, and the 

bloodless white synthetic flesh of the face was shredded and smashed. Blood and cerebral fluid had 

puddled up around the ruined head and shoulders. Worse yet, the skinny business suit was out of 

fashion for about twenty years! 

_____Yeah, she wanted that bastard Rafter dead--ESPECIALLY after what he said to her. But what 

was a way to die! What was left of him was too nasty to even look at! Maybe she should have just 

told Sera to punch off his head. That way, at least it would have been less messy. Or maybe not. Her 

mouth twisted up in disgust as she thought of all the blood, hydraulic fluid, and other stuff that would 

have come out of the cyborg's neck. Yuck... 

_____Footsteps came up behind her. Lissette whirled around to quickly face the newcomer, turned 

so quickly around that her ponytailed hairstyle whipped around and became more of a mess. "Oh 

great," she muttered. She put her arms and hands up, fussing with her hair. "What now? I'm done here, 

right? I was a judge to that 'duel' you just had. And I can...safely say..." She patted and stroked a few 

more dark strands back into place. "...Can safely say that the fashion freak in the fighting ring is deader 

than dodos." 

_____The messenger shrugged. "Yes, okay, you're done here. The executives know how important 

your time is, and they want to put you back with your friends as soon as possible. But they chose you 

to judge the fight because you are somebody. Somebody important."

_____"Oh, I feel so-o-o privileged..." said Lissette. It was sarcasm, of course. She wanted to spend

the night partying. She didn't give herself a break too often, and last night was supposed to be one of

those nights she did."

_____The messenger either ignored the sarcasm or didn't get it. He continued. "Anyway, someone 

named Sam called about you, one of your Parasol Club members. So we have a ride waiting out front

for you out front." He jerked a thumb towards the front of the gym. "If you'll just follow me."

_____Lissette rolled her eyes, then walked over to the messenger's side. They both began walking 

towards the exit. "Sure, why not?" she said. "I'll accept your offer for a ride. You've already ruined 

my day before it got started... I mean, look at my CLOTHES! I had one of the downtown 

shopkeepers hand-press and starch this blouse! And did you know my hair took HOURS to do? 

Not that you would care! If I was told ahead of time that YOU were going to practically KIDNAP 

me in the middle of the night, while I was with friends, maybe I wouldn't have bothered to dress up for

the big party happening down at O'Connors and..." So on and so forth.

_____As they reached the foyer--and the front door--the messenger began to ignore the cute girl's

whining. How old was she, really? Sixteen? Nineteen? He had heard that she was twenty-something,

and she was supposed to be the president of that hacker's club. A president of one of the most important 

organizations in this independent sector, and she looked--and acted--like such a kid! And...what's a 

dodo, anyway?

...

_____The beginning light of the early morning grew into the full day. The urban roads were busy and 

the sidewalks were crowded as people went to their places of work. Then the routine of the day began 

in earnest: factories thrumming and computers heating in the buildings and offices of this sector. It was

soon another brightly lit afternoon. 

_____As the sunlight warmed the air, the heated winds blew through the streets--picking up random 

scraps of litter-paper, making it go skipping along the sidewalks and streets. Somewhere along the 

line, street-cleaning trucks hired by the Feng-Long Society would suck up that trash. There was always

someone to pick up the trash around here.

_____One piece of litter-paper blowing in the wind had caught itself on a chain-link fence--a fence set

in front of a blocky brown building. Unfurled against the fence, the litter turned out to be a scrap of 

newsprint: one of those locally printed "rumor sheets" that was so popular with the (literate) people 

and the Society executives. This piece of newsprint was about the status of this sector--how it was 

still disconnected from the Network.

_____Disconnected, but for how long? The Network was starting to have certain "errors" investigated

within its infrastructure. This included the "errors" set up by the Parasol Club to disconnect this sector

from Network control. That fucking mega-computer up in Zalem--high up and over a hundred miles 

away away--had a mind of its own, but one mind could not concern itself with each and every little 

problem of every sector in every city! 

_____But now, that mind was becoming a tad bit suspicious. At least the "technical difficulties" happening 

up in that floating city would keep the computer busy. Oh yeah, very busy. Maybe the technical 

difficulties... 

_____Whoops! That the scrap of newsprint was torn right in the middle of a paragraph. After all, it 

was just a scrap--not a full paper. The wind changed direction, and the newsprint was blown off. Blown

away from the chain-link fence. Flip! Another swath of newsprint was stuck to the chain-link fence. 

_____This one was a rumor about bounty hunters having secretly come into this sector of the city. 

According to this bit of newsprint, no one could be sure why bounty hunters would bother coming here,

or IF they were coming here. There were no posted bounties on anyone in this sector. The hackers 

made sure of that. Maybe some bounty hunters were a little anxious and wanted some action 

prior to rewards being put out by the Network. That would explain that weird guy with the broom. 

But that wouldn't explain how he's so creepy that people have nightmares about him, or how he can 

get into any...

_____Fl-flip! The wind snatched away that next bit of newsprint--sending it away. The printed scrap

of paper went flapping and skipping along the same city sidewalk, seeming to chase that other scrap.

Paper litter was like birds, always flying and fluttering place to place--until something caught it. This,

though migrating flocks of birds in this part of the world were killed off by toxic air pollution. 

...

_____"They BROKE...HIS...BOWL! Gya-a-a-ah!" shouted the wild-eyed cyborg, running along the 

hot sidewalk. His floppy business clothes fluttered like dark wings of madness, arms waving like mad 

and shoes slapping the concrete. He stopped running for a moment, panting and shaking. "And HE 

got Rafter! When your BOWL is BROKEN, it's all over if HE gets you. Don't let HIM get you! 

Argh! Nya-a-a-h!" He continued to run on, spreading his deranged message. 

_____It was the afternoon, and plenty of executives were dining at indoor and outdoor cafes and 

restaurants. Although there were some people in coveralls at these restaurants, most of the people 

here wore dark business clothes: the men in business suits, the women in conservatively cut dress clothes.

These were executive uniforms worn of the Feng Long Society. And even during lunch--ESPECIALLY

during lunch--they were talking business. 

_____Some of the people at this cafe stopped their conversations, and looked over at that running 

nut across the street. Apparently, that freak over there was high on something. Who knew what, exactly, 

since there were plenty of "recreational substances" to smoke, eat, drink, inject, and even soak. 

"Recreational substances?" HA! That would mean that certain drugs are supposed to be fun. But from 

the look of that nutball running along, it didn't look as if the stuff he used was good for recreation.

_____A thin, blonde-haired businesswoman commented, "Whatever could that madman mean? He 

probably doesn't what he's saying himself." She looked primly at the executive sitting across from 

herself. "I don't use drugs, you know. And that's why." Her slim fingertips wrapped round the stem of

her wineglass. Sipped her white wine. "Drugs make people crazy."

_____"But Prudence, alcohol is a drug, you know," interrupted someone also at this table: a pert-faced, 

brown-haired female executive. Her eyeglasses glinted. "And so is marijuana and nicotine. I 

saw you smoke and drink plenty last at that acquisition party last week. You remember, the one with 

the big broken Deckman in the middle of the dance floor? You used plenty of drugs there, and YOU 

didn't go crazy."

_____"Oh Hell!" responded Prudence, the blonde businesswoman. "Don't be tart! Drinking and 

smoking don't count. Everybody does it! Now, as I was saying, Jonah..." She turned her attention back 

to the male executive sitting opposite her. "I was saying that the crazy cyborg over there probably doesn't

make any sense."

_____Jonah, the male executive, frowned in thought. "Not so sure about that, Prudence. Maybe he 

at least THINKS he's making sense. Maybe he makes more sense than we think he does. Just a little

bit messed up with weirdness. You know, like a dream."

_____"OATMEAL! Don't let anything happen to your OATMEAL!" came the shout from a bit farther

along the street. Some darkly dressed enforcers came by, metal hands exposed, starting to struggle 

with the drug-crazed cyborg. "N-no! No! No-o-o...!" 

_____Good, now they were taking him away. Good riddance. That freak was ruining lunch! Back 

here at the lunch table, Prudence straightened up--inhaled. "Make sense? I truly do not think so! No 

sensible gentleman would ever think such a thing. The cyborg is clearly deranged. Jonah, I thought 

better of you. I thought you were a more sensible man than that, thinking that a crazy cyborg could 

ever make sane sense. Then again, you tend to swallow plenty of foolish ideas."

_____"Heh-heh... Prudence, I hear that you swallow too. And I don't mean ideas," said the brown-haired 

female executive, looking down at her bowl of creamed corn. She put her hands to her lips. "Whoops! 

Did I say that OUT LOUD? I'm sorry!" But the way she said it, she really wasn't sorry.

_____Aghast, Prudence put her hand to her chest. "Emma! You say the most UNREFINED things at 

times! I mean, REALLY..." She glanced back at the scene across the way: the cyborg in floppy 

clothes being dragged away by enforcers. "It is times such as these that I would like to see bounty hunters 

on our streets. You know, dear, instead of randomly placed Society enforcers. I was just talking to Karl 

about..." From there, the rest of the lunchtime conversation continued--with that cyborg across the 

street being ignored.

_____"WAIT! LISTEN TO...ME!" came a fainter, more distant shout. "We'll all be BROKEN 

bowls soon enough! There will be cinnamon sprinkled all around, and then HE will come for us all! 

Then we'll all go into the breeze--carried or lifted! I can hear the lost faces FLOATING and LOOKING 

in the breeze! Argh... LET GO...!" A strong THUMP on the head quieted the cyborg. Then the enforcers 

over there carried him away. 

...

_____Elsewhere in this sector, there was an especially gritty bar and social club--one of several. The 

tables were rickety and the lighting was bad. No windows, just some florescent tubes for lighting. But

the good beer was cheap, there was damned good music every weekend, and everyone here was 

friendly. Overall, it wasn't such a bad place. 

_____Lissette drank some of her beer, looked around. She was sitting at one of the tables, along with

an unlikely twosome: a middle-aged businessman and a thin teenage girl. Sam and Kela. Chubby and 

balding, Sam still dressed in those pinstripe suits he was so fond of. The girl, Kela, was dressed and 

styled more flamboyantly: short-cut jean shorts, florescent pink tee shirt, and shoulder-length hair bright

blue. Her gold-colored eyes sparkled. Kela's hair was a dye job, but her eyes really were that color: 

a slight mutation.

_____Lissette didn't feel like dressing up much. Since this morning, she had washed and changed

into blue jeans and matching blouse--nothing fancy. Her hair was left loose, going straight down her 

back. "Not bad," she said. "I can see why you like to hang out here, Kela. I thought this place was 

going to be really crummy. But that was because I was just judging it by appearances..." She then 

frowned, recalling the documents she had received through e-mail. Hmmph. 

_____Sam smiled, responding to Lissette's comments. "Yeah, honey, I hear that! It's pretty easy to 

go by appearances, ya know? 'Specially when I'm havin' beer-time lunch with two pretty gals like 

yerselves. Say, Lissette... Kela's got herself somebody, thanks ta you. Ya even found me the lady 

that's now my wife! Yer still pretty an' young-lookin'. Why don't ya get somebody?"

_____Still thinking about the files the Society sent her... There was no surrounding explanation or 

information--just the text files. The files were about "mysterious strangers" being seen locally. Meaning, 

there were some newcomers walking the local streets--maybe people who didn't belong here. Bounty 

hunters?

_____"Yeah, Lissette!" cheered Kela, gold eyes seeming to glow with enthusiasm. "Why don't YOU 

have a boyfriend, huh? Maybe Chris or Leon. Joel, hmm? Or what about...SAM!" She frowned. 

"On second thought, maybe not Joel. He's a real prude sometimes." 

_____"Oh, not now..." said Lissette, sad. She leaned forward, both hands on the table. "You know

what? I've been thinking about our problems with the Network. We've reconfigured the machines 

our labs. But there's something else going on."

_____Sam smirked. Okay, it was time to talk business. "Alright, I think I know what yer talkin' about.

Yer talkin' about what's really goin' on up in Zalem, right? All that talk about 'technical difficulties,' an all. 

Yeah, we REALLY know what kinda difficulties they're havin'. PEOPLE difficulties. An' if the difficulties 

keep happenin', maybe that damned floatin' city in the sky won't be alive anymore. Know what I'm 

sayin', toots?"

_____Lissette shook her head. For some seconds, she said nothing--the din of the bar crowd in the

background. "No, I'm not talking about THAT. I'm talking about those weirdoes the people are writing 

about in the rumor sheets. You know, about people who just, like, disappear? And that creepy guy 

in blue coveralls? How he can go ANYWHERE? Sounds like some bounty hunters got their hands 

on some lost technology they dug up from a scrapyard."

_____"I don't think they're just bounty hunters," said Kela, her sun-colored eyes taking on a dreamy look.

"Maybe they're NOT bounty hunters. Like, what if they're not from around here? Maybe they're...visitors. 

Not really human at all. You know?"

_____"Ya mean, like those old stories 'bout flyin' saucers an' spirits? An' hairy mutant men that live in 

the mountains?" commented Sam. "I don't wanna believe in crazy shit like that! But the way they talk 

about that guy with no face... Sheesh!" He shuddered. "Tryin' ta creep me out!"

_____Lissette shook her head. "I'm not sure. It's just a bit hard for me to put together. It's no 

coincidence, what's happening in the rumor sheets. Think about it. Zalem is having problems, and the 

Network run up there s trying to take this sector back. Now we have hired enforcers going psycho

and weird visitors coming into this sector of town." She paused, her dark eyes looking to Kela, then 

Sam. "Some really scary shit is happening."


	5. Chapter 5: Bowls With Cracks in Them

The Cinnamon Horizon

by Elliot Bowers

Chapter 5: Bowls with Cracks in Them

_____Away from the bar, back in the downtown area, there was an alley. There were plenty of 

alleys in this town, sure. Yet this was the alley where Gale was dragged off into. The hit on the 

head and his recent drug binge was a sure-fire combination that would keep him knocked out for 

quite some time. Hell, maybe he wouldn't wake up at all.

_____While the floppy-clothed cyborg snored--synthesized drool oozing from between rubbery 

lips--four enforcers were arguing about his fate. One of them wanted Gale to wake up dead; three of

them wanted to follow the instructions given to them by their superiors. It was an intense argument. 

Their angry words were as heated as the city's afternoon air.

_____The angry male enforcer seemed mad enough to do something violent. "I say we kill this asshole!" 

His otherwise-plain synthetic face twisted and squinted with fury. Using a metal hand, he pointing to the 

slumped figure. "He's making us look bad! Every time an enforcer goes rogue, it makes executives 

reconsider why they have us around. It's either us...or bounty hunters. If the people of this sector 

wanted bounty hunters, the executives of the Society could always fire us and hire those blade-swinging 

psychos from the outside!"

_____"No..." said a calmer, more professional female voice--a shapely, blonde-haired female enforcer in 

dark clothes. Her tailored dress-suit hid her electromechanical body quite convincingly, and her black 

sunglasses made her facial expression hard to read. "I can understand your feelings. To tell the truth, I

want to kill him too. I read the memo on that crazy bastard...!" She took a deep breath. "But 

Miss Patsun has a plan for him."

_____"Okay, okay, she has a PLAN," went the angry male enforcer. "Yet you and I BOTH know that

that plan mean he ends up dead. But, you know what? Maybe we don't...'kill' him. Maybe he has an 

accident! Yeah... An accident. Maybe he just had a little too much nose-candy to snort, got a little

too high, then he staggered out of a bar and ended up in front of a truck! Except, maybe we just so 

happen to lay him by the street when this 'accident' happens. Get my drift?"

_____Everyone went silent. There was the sound of trucks rolling by and the wind blowing across the 

entrance into the alley. The idea fit perfectly. The jerk was already doped up on all sorts of things. He

was drugged up enough to go screaming his head off about "oatmeal" and disembodied faces floating

in the wind. So he wouldn't be too far from falling in front of a truck that was shipping factory-made 

goods. It was one of those ideas that lit up the head and make someone think to himself or herself, 

HELL yes. What a damn good idea...

_____The female enforcer blinked, cleared her throat. "Ahem! As good an idea as it sounds, we 

shouldn't do it. We just can't go against what the executives say and expect to get away with it. We're 

supposed to be the ones that make sure people treat each other fairly...in the interest of the Feng-Long 

Society, of course. If we don't follow instructions and do what we want with criminals, then we'll be 

just as bad as that asshole over there."

_____"Besides," chimed in the second male enforcer, "I like following Miss Patsun's instructions. I like

the way she thinks. She has this way of getting what she wants, even if it doesn't seem like she's going 

for it directly. Like, her plans have their own ways of coming together. Remember what happened last

year, when there was a plot by another executive to have her killed?"

_____"Ooh... That was creepy," said the female enforcer. "It was like she knew ahead of time exactly

what beer bottle that executive was going to drink out of. She just went to a bar while the bartender 

was on a lunch break and had somebody poison a bottle of beer--inject something through the bottlecap.

the bartender didn't know which bottle was poisoned; it was just one bottle on the shelf. The good kind

of beer, not the kind out of the tap served around here. But he served the bottle with the poison in it--

served it to the plotting executive. He was dead the next morning. Some people said he was screaming

and staggering all night. The poison made him look like he was drunk--until it killed him."

_____"That was just dumb coincidence," said the first enforcer. "I don't believe that story. It would 

have made more sense for Miss Patsun to try to hire the bartender directly. You know, mark the 

poisoned bottle and serve it to the jerk that was trying to kill her."

_____"Not true," insisted the female executive. "How the Hell did Miss Patsun know the jerk was 

going to one particular bar to drink out of one particular bottle? And remember, it was a weekday. 

Executives usually save their late-night partying for the weekends. And wouldn't the bartender have 

chickened out? How many bartenders do you know willing to kill people?"

_____Snarfle! The four enforcers turned to the knocked-out cyborg--stirring in his unnatural sleep. 

Grumble-mumble... "No... Please... No more cinnamon on me." Mumble-mumble... He was apparently 

lost in a drug-induced dream--or nightmare.

_____The four went back to talking. "So, we're just supposed to leave him alone and make sure no one 

helps him. That's Miss Patsun's plan... Not much of one, I'll tell you," complained the first enforcer again. He 

kicked aside some trash in walking over to where the mumbling, drugged-up cyborg slept--back against the 

wall. "Not much of a plan. I really wish something would just happen to him, coincidence or not."

_____"Come on," said the female enforcer. "Let's get out of here. That one won't be causing any 

trouble for a while. We have to be around to handle other people's problems. Besides, if it makes you feel 

any better, we can beat up the next troublemaker that comes along. Well, so long as it isn't the other 

messed-up enforcer we're not supposed to touch."

_____Mumble-mumble... For a moment, it seemed as if the cyborg in floppy clothes was responding

to what was said. No, he was just talking in his sleep. Another glistening line of synthetic drool dropped 

down to his chest. He wasn't getting up for a while.

_____"Yeah, whatever," went the first enforcer, now standing over the drugged-out cyborg. He lifted 

a foot, wiped it on a pants leg of the sleeping cyborg. That was all he did to Gale. And he walked 

away. It was hard, but he did it. The other enforcers followed him out of this alley and turned left, 

passing by a certain restaurant. 

...

_____Inside the restaurant, a certain electrician was back from finishing another job. He was munching 

on a hamburger, his soda-pop getting warm. Hey, he LIKED soda-pop! It wasn't a good idea to get 

drunk during business hours, anyway. He would go back to the main power plant and wait for another 

call after this. It was steady work, and it paid a Hell of a lot better than the factory job he had a few 

years ago--back when the Network ran this sector. 

_____Swish-swish-swish... "Huh?" The electrician thought he heard sweeping sounds, the swishing 

whispery sound a push-broom makes when pushed along a street or concrete sidewalk. Weird... He 

thought the sound was coming from the outside. But how could he hear sweeping sounds through a 

wall, with a bunch of people in here talking?

_____If he had artificial hearing, he would have thought the sound was a malfunction of his auditory 

system. But the only "auditory system" he had was the one supplied by nature. Maybe his ears were 

playing tricks on him? 

_____Yeah, that had to be it. He was just hearing things, like when he serviced the equipment back at the 

clinic. Just hearing things, you know? Or maybe he was just going a little nuts? All the crazy mess happening

these days was bound to make anybody go a little off the deep end.

_____Swish-swish-swish... The electrician got up from where he was sitting, walked over to the bar.

He took some credit chips out of his right pocket and laid them atop the long formica bar top. The 

muscular bald bartender took up the chips and thanked the electrician for his patronage. That done, 

the electrician turned and walked out of the bar.

... 

_____He went out. Outside--standing on the sidewalk--he looked around at the local urban scenery. 

A bright sun was high overhead, beaming brightly down on the street and the buildings nearby. The flat 

gray street was out front, with short blocky buildings nearby... Some cyborgs and fellow fleshies were 

walking by. This was the downtown area, so most of the people were well-dressed. No one out here

had a push broom. But there was still that sweeping sound--the gentle swish-swish-swish of the 

broom. Coming from his right, from the alley and...somewhere else.

_____It wasn't just that he heard it with his ears. He could also hear the sweeping sound in his head.

It was the same sort of effect produced by a really good pair of stereo headphones. He wasn't 

wearing headphones right now, though. He was still hearing the sound of someone gently sweeping--using 

a push broom. So the electrician just had to find out who had that broom.

_____He adjusted his cap and wiped his palms on his brightly colored coveralls, took a deep breath. 

Then he carefully began walking over to that alley. The wind began whistling in his ears. It began to 

cover up the sound of the sweeping he was hearing. Then the breeze really picked up, and he couldn't 

hear anything.

_____There was no one in the alley. Neither was there any possible source of that swish-swish-swish

sound. All that the electrician was able to see in the shadowy alley was some trash cans and some 

piles of litter along the concrete. But somebody had to have been in that alley, making that sound! 

The electrician knew it.

... 

_____Gale walked out of the alley, feeling surprisingly clear-headed. After snorting angel dust, smoking

vat-grown marijuana, popping barbituates, and a whole bunch of other shit, he usually felt like street-sludge 

afterward. Not now, though! Now, he was feeling pretty damned smooth. No, not just smooth; he felt 

SMO-O-OTH. Maybe he'd remember the exact drug cocktails he had sampled last night and try it all over

again today.

_____Too bad the weather was ass-rotten. The sky was overcast with gray cloud cover, and it was more 

than a little windy--making his floppy clothes flap. Wind, howling between cracked buildings. Blowing 

through the cracked streets... Wait a damned minute. 

_____Cracks in the streets? Cracked buildings? What the fuck! Gale looked way up at the nearest 

building--a three-story structure set against the backdrop of the metal gray sky overhead. Yes, there 

were cracks in it. That was weird; the Feng-Long Society usually made sure that the downtown area 

was well-kept. And there were plenty of well-experienced cyborgs and fleshies good at building 

maintenance. There was no reason why these buildings should look so cracked!

_____Then came an odd idea. What if he really wasn't in the downtown area anymore? What if those

other enforcers dragged him somewhere else? But, looking around, he knew this place. All of these 

buildings were the same. The shops and restaurants were all here. Hell, even the advertising signs were 

in place. Except for the cracks in the buildings and sidewalks, everything was exactly where it should be. 

Well, not everything. He had forgotten an extremely important detail--a huge and glaring problem. 

_____Where was everybody? Gale could see no one. He looked left: nobody. He looked to his 

right: nobody there, either. All of the buildings had indoor lights on, the windows glowing with indoor

lights. But he could see no one in those windows. And there were--sure as Hell--NO trucks on the 

road. 

_____Nobody was walking along the sidewalks. Nobody was in the buildings. Nobody drove trucks on

the street. Apparently, everybody was gone!

_____Or were they really gone? Gale began to hear people--hearing people he could not see. There 

were hints of distant laughter carried by the wind, sounds of people in crowds somewhere. He could hear 

people in the distance, when the wind wasn't blowing so hard. He would turn suddenly, expecting to see 

people at that cafe across the street, or people gathered at the shop over here. Snippets of conversation, 

the occasional sound of chattering, he was hearing bits and swaths of all of that. There was the general 

sound of people being around here. But he just couldn't...see...anybody! What the HELL was going on 

here?

_____Swish-swish-swish... He turned around so fast that his floppy clothes made a whipping sound. Ah, 

finally! He saw somebody walking out of an alley. It was somebody in work clothes: blue coveralls and 

white shirt, solid brown work-shoes on his feet. His blue cloth cap shadowed his face, and he carried his 

broom over his left shoulder.

_____Gale opened his mouth to shout, suddenly decided not to do so when he suddenly knew who, 

or what, was over there--the being with the broom. And, of course, HE had his broom with him. It 

looked like an ordinary push-broom: long brown handle, a wide flat sweeping head with stiff bristles. 

It looked good for wide floors. But the sight of that broom was as frightening to Gale as a very large 

gun pointed at his head. It was, indeed, the Janitor. The creepy guy in blue coveralls, someone with no 

face... He had no face! 

_____So run like Hell, mother-fucker! Shaking his head, Gale turned and decided it just might be a 

good idea to get away--very fast. Clothes flapping, arms and legs moving at a rapid beat, he dashed 

along the sidewalk. He was hearing the wind all howling in his ears--carrying with it the sound of laughter 

coming from all around. And, off in the distance, he heard heavy-sounding music playing and sounds of 

people having a good time. Laughing, they were probably laughing at someone. 

_____They were laughing...at Gale! "Gya-a-a-h!" he shouted, turning left and continuing to run like all

get-out! No way was he going to get caught by that creepy freak with the broom! Hell, Gale could

run for hours. He rushed onward, running past seemingly empty buildings and alleys, shoes pattering along

the sidewalk. Since there were no trucks in the street, he veered his running to the right and... 

_____A blast of air nearly knocked him off of his feet, and there was a flash of lightning. Suddenly

everything seemed to JERK to the left--as if someone had gripped this entire city and YANKED it 

sideways. Gale was almost knocked down when everything jerked. Then, blinking, he looked around.

_____Everything had returned to normal. The downtown streets were well-paved again. All of the 

buildings became as they were. And the day was all sunny. Then there was a loud blast of sound like the 

end of the world.

...

_____"Like, the guy just came outta nowhere!" said the truck driver, standing on the sidewalk. He 

kept playing with his hat, metal hands nervously working. Behind him, back on the street, his partially 

damaged truck idled. "I was shippin' a load of stirring things, just takin' my usual route, when he just 

APPEARS in the middle of the road. I tried to stop an' all, but a heavy vehicle like mine... It ain't 

gonna stop on a coin, ya know? Ya gotta believe me... That's all I know! Honest, fellas!"

_____Three enforcers listened patiently to what the truck driver had to say. An enforcer being killed,

that was serious. Damned serious. But, as one of them had found out earlier, the death of Gale was...

expected. A certain executive expected Gale to be killed. How, she did not say. Still, the other

enforcers here had to be sure this was actually an accident.

_____"I ain't ever wanna hit any of you guys!" added the truck driver, real nervousness on his synthetic 

face. "You guys are the BEST! Keepin' things decent and all. Better than those fuckin' psycho bounty 

hunters, I'll tell ya! Ya done saved my ass a few times before, back when this sector done switched 

over from Network control an' all! Yer great! I'd NEVER wanna hurt you guys!"

_____"Ha-ha-ha..." One enforcer reached forward and patted the nervous truck driver on the right 

shoulder--three pats. His right metal hand stayed on that shoulder. "I hear you. Don't worry, we 

believe you. This was an honest mistake." The enforcer's plain face wore a smile. "Accidents happen 

all the time! Now, you'll try to be more careful in the future, right?"

_____The truck driver's head rapidly bobbled up and down--nodding yes-yes-yes. "Yes sir! I'm

gonna be the safest driver out there! Gonna drive a little slow. Maybe be a little late. But I'm gonna 

be Mister Safety!"

_____"You do that, but don't be late with shipments! Ha-ha-ha..." laughed the third enforce, a female. 

"Now get back in that truck of yours and continue your work. You truck drivers are important workers, 

and we don't want our shops and facilities running late and low on the supplies you deliver! We'll dispose 

of the body."

_____The first enforcer let the driver go. "Okay! I'll get right back to work! Thank ya very much. Thank 

ya, thank ya..." Nodding and bobbing his head, he walked backwards a few steps before turning and 

quickly getting away--striding over to his truck. The damage to the truck was only to the right fender--dented 

and scraped. The blood on the right wheel could be rinsed off. He revved the engine a bit, then carefully 

drove off down the city street.

_____The Janitor was here--right hand on broom and left hand against a pocket. He watched the truck 

go by. He held his hand to the left pocket because, whatever it was he had in there, it was trying to get 

away. That new thing in his left coverall pocket was really squirming and struggling. 

_____Yes, it looks like he caught another one! And it was still trying to run. But it couldn't. HE, the 

Janitor, had plenty of experience catching these damned things. Silly, why did this one even try to escape? 

It wouldn't have been able to evade him forever.

_____Turning around, the Janitor smiled a dark smile that stretched the swarthy skin of his face. Adjusting 

the squirming lump in his left pocket, he began walking towards a nearby shadowy alley. It was a bright 

day, yet that alley was dark. The Janitor walked on in there, disappearing into that darkness. And the 

winds continued to blow through the city streets.

...

2.

...

_____Sera was sitting cross-legged atop her bed, looking out of the bedroom window. There were plenty 

of other things she should be doing at the moment--lots of other things to occupy her time. But not now. 

She was just having a moment of relaxation. It was a thinking time, a quiet time to herself. With all that 

happened in the past few days, she had to get her head together after all of this craziness that has been 

happening with her.

_____Somewhat to the left, the sun burned over the horizon--going down. The sideways glare would have 

made her squint if she was still human, with living eyes. And the death of her family should have made her 

cry tears. No tears came from her eyes, no droplets of sadness sliding down her cheeks. But she did not 

squint, she did not cry. Why not? Maybe, both the lack of squinting and the lack of tears were caused 

by the same reason.

_____No, that wasn't true. Before becoming a cyborg herself, Sera had friends with electromechanical 

bodies. She was there when things in life made them cry. She saw tears coming from their eyes.

_____Her family, she missed her family. She could easily imagine her little brother and sister--so small and 

loving, so beautiful. Martha, the nanny, was there for the children. She was a part of the family. Then 

there were her parents... They were killed during the few weeks of troubles that happened when 

Network control was disconnected from this sector. 

_____Dead, all of them dead. She missed them, wanted them. Still staring out of the window, the winds 

blew--gently whistling, not howling fiercely. And the fading sunlight cast a orange glow over the cityscape. 

Why couldn't she cry for them? Where were her tears?

_____Her large eyes stared, unblinking. Her thoughts were on those who had died. She was just trying so 

hard to mentally recall more details of family gone now. Or were they gone? No, she still remembered them. 

Thoughts of them, and the love they had given her, still stayed. 

_____Eyes on the city horizon, she held the thoughts in her head. She would not cry. Her family was not

gone. They were dead, but they were not gone. So long as the winds blew, so long as there were 

stars in the night sky, so long as she could hold on to the memories, the family would not be gone from 

her. 

_____Reasons were why things happened. Sometimes, those reasons were a bit harder to figure out. 

Because, maybe there are forces at work that go beyond common understanding. Or maybe those 

reasons cannot be fully understood and just have to be accepted.

_____As she sat atop her neatly made bed, looking out over the cityscape, some of the breeze blew in 

through her window and past her. The wind played with strands of her red hair before passing her and 

over to the new nightstand nearby. Atop this nightstand were a few sheaves of newsprint and a small 

electric lamp. This breeze made the newsprint flutter.

_____Some of the sheaves of newsprint was marked and circled in red, circling items about an enforcer 

being struck and killed by a truck driver. Accidents were not usually a big deal. The roads were very 

busy sometimes. People--careless, intoxicated, or both--blundered into roads and were killed. But this 

time, it was an enforcer that was killed. It was one that Sera had wanted to murder through violence, 

using her metal machine-body to continue her revenge. Not with Gale, now. 

_____About an hour ago, someone hired by a messenger had delivered the newsprint to her apartment

door. She had picked it up, read it, and set it atop her new nightstand--next to the little electric lamp.

That was when she began sitting atop her bed, opening her large eyes to the view outside her open 

window. She had this feeling... 

_____Suddenly, she felt very sleepy. She uncrossed her legs and laid straight back on the bed--long

red hair splaying beneath her head and back like wings. Maybe she should have closed the window against 

any sudden rainstorms. No need to worry about birds or flying insects, because pollution had killed them 

off around here. Thoughts drifting on the winds, she closed her eyes and her breathing fell into the relaxed 

rhythm of sleep. 

...

_____He walked the sidewalk, the sunlight casting the city in fading reddish-orange light--making the concrete

of the buildings seem to glow. Though surrounded by plenty of people--the after-work crowd--he was still 

alone. No buddies. While plenty of other people chatted with co-workers on their walks homeward, Carbon 

had no one to talk to anymore, really.

_____Rafter, that skinny psycho buddy of his, was dead. Carbon got that bit of news while at a downtown 

restaurant, overheard some messengers and enforcers talking about the fight. Gale was dead too, according 

to the latest newsprint: suddenly hit by a truck, excuse being the driver didn't see him coming. Two pals, 

killed in the space of a few days. What the fuck was going on? 

_____"Aw, Hell..." said the big cyborg to himself, putting his metal hands in his cloth coverall pockets. 

It was mighty strange how both Gale and Rafter were both dead pretty quickly, their brains killed in the

same set of days. Carbon had known those two for over six decades... Yeah, decades! For an

older cyborg, time had this way of just spreading from months into years and decades. So on and so

forth. 

_____By now, the sun was low enough that the streetlights were triggered on. This was a residential

area, and people were getting inside--at least most of the workers were. They had to be at work in the

morning, so they didn't want to waste too much time before going to bed. The executives over in the

downtown area were another story. Downtown was back there; Carbon had wandered all the way 

from downtown to here.

_____"Hell!" he said again, looking at the sidewalk as he continued along--moving through the pools

of light cast by the streetlamps. He was just moving and walking, no particular direction for him to go.

Then he stopped. Looked farther ahead. About several buildings down, across the next street, there 

was a flickering streetlamp--rapidly blinking and stuttering, as if the thing was having some kind of 

electric epileptic seizure. And standing under that streetlamp was HIM... 

_____It was the Janitor over there, wearing the same style of coveralls as he was. Had the Janitor been 

fat instead of broad shouldered and muscular, had he been a cyborg instead of a fleshie, he could pass 

Carbon's physical double. Dressing the way he did, the Janitor even seemed to be mocking Carbon. 

He even had the same kind of work shoes. 

_____Bastard! Suddenly angry, the big cyborg made a mad dash for the figure standing under that 

flickering streetlamp. He somehow managed to not be hit by the executive cars using the road as he 

ran. Anger made him move pretty fast for a cyborg of his size and girth. Besides, the cyborg had 

strong legs to keep up that big round body of his! 

_____Feet pounding, arms swinging, he was soon closing in--getting to that flickering. But then he saw 

that creepy bastard walk away from the light. Better hurry! Carbon continued to run, yet the Janitor 

calmly walked over to an unusually placed manhole in the sidewalk. He lifted up the metal cover with one 

hand and climbed down into the dark hole, pulling himself and his broom down. 

_____He was getting away! Not thinking clearly, so full of anger, Carbon leapt up and tried to dive

feet-first into the sewer, getting after that bastard in blue...THUNK! Yes, TRIED was the word, because 

big fat Carbon had a great big tank-belly that kept him from squeezing down into the sewer. He became 

stuck, like a factory-farmer's turnip half-out of the ground.

_____"Aw, shit! Damn it!" he shouted, squirming. As soon as he said that, the sewer hole widened and 

he went down. He fell down into the darkness, sucked down. It really was a darkness darker than the 

night...

...

_____He hit the bottom at some point, and he found himself in a dark place. No, that wasn't quite

right. It wasn't really dark. But it was just very, very dim. With his artificial and enhanced eyesight, he 

could barely see. There was a gray floor under him feet, that much he could see. Getting to his feet,

he could also see a little bit around. There was wind blowing through this place, so it must be pretty 

big.

_____There were other people here too, people in the dim gloom. It was just so damned dim here.

He could barely see them. But they were definitely all around, keeping their distance. They were 

creeping him out! Were they the ones who brought him here? And why the fuck was it so windy? It 

didn't smell like sewer, either. 

_____"Where the Hell am I?" he muttered. Ha-ha-ha... Gentle and distant laughter answered on the wind. 

The wind, howling in his ears. Someone was laughing. Not just someone, it was some people. Some of 

those people in this place were laughing. Carbon could barely hear them with the wind howling, but they 

were definitely laughing, oh-so-gently. Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha...

_____The laughter and the wind surrounded him. The wind was all howling and blowing through the 

darkness, filling his ears. All of the low laughing, all of the wind, and it was just so damned dark here! 

Carbon turned and ran, not caring if he bumped into anyone or anything. Ha-ha-ha... His shoes 

pounding the hard floor, he ran through the near-total darkness and through the crowd of unseen people. 

They seemed to step aside and let him run. A-A-AH, HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA…!

_____Whoops! Something long and stiff made him trip and slide along the smooth floor. A broomstick!

Tripped by a God-damned broomstick! Carbon slid for a good long distance on that big round 

belly of his. After skidding a while, he was able to put his metal hands down as so he could try to get 

up. But he couldn't. Couldn't get up. Something had taken hold of him. 

_____He struggled and squirmed as that unseen force gripped him harder, pressing him harder against

the floor. Then everything went silent--silence and darkness. There was the whispery swish-swish-swish 

of a broom moving along the floor. Carbon could hear the sweeping coming in his direction, even if he 

couldn't see who it was. The sweeping in the darkness was coming in the direction of his head.

...

_____When he returned to consciousness, he found himself sitting down on the sidewalk--sitting in the light 

of the streetlamp, not flickering anymore. He looked around. Luckily, there were no passers-by or bystanders 

to stare at him in his foolish state. Sitting on the sidewalk, looking like an idiot. What would the locals think?

_____"Hmmph..." he went, looking over to the manhole he had just... What the Hell? The manhole wasn't 

there anymore. Carbon got up enough to get down on his knees. His metal fingertips brushed the concrete 

as he searched for the manhole he could have SWORN was just here. But he just felt plain old sidewalk. 

_____Confused, he got up. There was no point in looking for something that wasn't there. "Ain't no 

point," he said aloud. "No point at all..." He then deliberately walked over the place in the sidewalk where 

the manhole was supposed to have been as he walked away, walking into the city night. Now he was scared.

... 

_____"AI-I-IGH!" Screaming, Sera sat up! She shook her head and quickly scrambled out of bed. She 

folded her arms across her chest, hugging herself. Her legs felt weak, and she felt shaky. It was dim and 

dark here, making her want to run somewhere! Pacing around, her eyes glanced left and right. It was 

almost as if she expected someone to come out and grab her. 

_____Then she found the light switch. The simply furnished bedroom was now well-lit, light coming from 

the fixture on the ceiling... Everything was well. She was standing on a carpeted floor, surrounded by four 

pastel-painted walls and a ceiling. The nightstand still had the lamp and sheaves of newsprint on it, set next 

to her bed--which was now ruined. It was neatly made when she laid down on it. Now it was a mess of 

yanked and jumbled quilt, twisted with ruined sheets.

_____And that was the worst of it; there were no other signs of anything violent or wrong. Everything

was fine. Just fine. Sera closed her eyes, inhaled. Seconds passed. She then let out a slow and shaky 

breath--opened her eyes. Everything was normal here. What just happened to her was all just a nightmare. 

It was awful, but it was over.

_____What was it? As soon as she had fallen asleep, she had this awful nightmare of being YANKED

out of the bedroom window and being sucked away by the wind. Then she was in this dimly lit place,

crowded with people she had never known. Most everyone was in weird clothes she had never seen

before. A big fat jerk went running through the crowd and everyone started laughing. She would have 

been knocked over had someone not pulled her aside. 

_____But the nightmare people were laughing at everything here. It wasn't a normal kind of laughter, 

either. It was a low and dark laughter--almost whispered. After that, her recollections of the nightmare

was a confused blur of strange faces and blowing wind. It was a nightmare about darkness and wind--and

flying! 

_____Still on shaky legs, Sera moved over to the bed and sat down. Maybe kids dreamt of flying somehow. 

Dreaming about flying was probably the only way they would fly: the Network made the making or usage 

of flying machines illegal, punishable by death. Flying seemed like such a wonderful thing of dreams, but 

now she wanted no part of it. Her flying nightmare was just so dark and strange.

_____That'll be the last time she ever slept with her bedroom window open! Nightmares about flying

around and being sucked into darkness, she never wanted that again! If she left the bedroom window

open again, maybe she would have nightmares about circular spaceships coming down from the 

infinite dark depths of space--piloted by short, skinny gray-skinned beings in skin-tight clothes, heads

with gigantic black eyes. (No need to worry about that, though. If there WERE space aliens, their ship 

would have probably been shot down by guided missiles launched by modified Deckmen…) 

_____R-r-r-ring! For a second, she didn't know where the sound was coming from. The front room,

her telephone was in the apartment's front room. And it was still ringing. Its little electric bell continued

to trill.

_____She stepped out of the bedroom and into the front room, turned on the light. R-r-r-ing! It was

attached to the wall. Her metal fingers wrapped around the plastic handset, lifted it and brought it to 

her ear. "H-hello?" she said into the telephone, hearing a slight distant electric hiss. The telephone lines

in this sector weren't perfect, but were good enough: the local workers had to learn to repair and 

maintain telephone lines without the help of the Network. 

_____"Good evening, young Miss Sera," said the calm male voice on the line. It was Mr. Yin. Sera 

imagined him in his grand office, reclining at his desk. "I suppose you were just getting ready to sleep 

for the night. So sorry to interrupt."

_____"It's okay, Mr. Yin," she answered respectfully. What time was it? It must be only nine o'clock

or so. "I had just taken a nap. But...something woke me up." A Hell of a nightmare! She wouldn't

tell him about it, though. "I don't think I'll be able to get back to sleep anyway, Mr. Yin. I'm glad you

called. I think I would have been bored if you didn't." 

_____"Is that so? Ho-ho..." He kept his laugh politely low, stopped. Then he continued speaking. 

"However, this is not a call meant to entertain you. This is more a business call. A business proposal,

if you would like to see it that way." A pause. "Are you doing anything now for an income?"

_____Sera thought a second. "Well, gosh! Uh, no... I really haven't been thinking about that, Mr. Yin. 

Ever since I had my body replaced. Guess I can't go back to my old job now, ha-ha...! Hmmph." She 

thought about her money caches. About half of her main savings were gone; the great big purse full of 

large-denomination credit-chips was half-empty. And she still had money held in the strong-house run by 

the Society. Not much, though... "I guess I don't have a job, Mr. Yin."

_____"Which is why I called," said Mr. Yin. "Some messengers told me of how well you have performed

in destroying Rafter. He was a rare cyborg, dangerously enhanced and modified. Lissette must have

taught you well! Now, how would you like to make regular wages from the skills you have learned?"

_____Sera puzzled over it a second. How would that be? First, she thought of being a bounty hunter.

But bounty hunters were workers for the Network... So, that would mean she would be made into 

an enforcer--wouldn't it? Only one way to find out. "Mr. Yin, what do you mean? A job as an enforcer?"

_____"I have talked things over with my business partners. A colleague of mine runs the local arena.

He says that new fighting talent is always welcome. New talent. You seem to be new talent, Miss Sera.

How would you like to be a professional prizefighter?"

_____"Huh?" The question really did surprise her. She had only just learned how to fight. Mere days of 

training, and she had somewhat blundered her way through her first real fight. Now Mr. Yin was asking 

her if she would fight regularly? "Mr. Yin, I... I am not a good fighter yet."

_____"Oh, but you will be, Miss Sera!" answered Mr. Yin. "Experience is an excellent teacher. Experience

will come of practice, practice, practice. And within the professional bouts set by us, the fights are not

as deadly. Mix that with how you will be able to get steady money again…" He paused. "Besides, you 

want to be skilled and strong enough to get the third one that killed your family, don't you?" 

_____"HELL YES!" shouted Sera, yelling her answer into the telephone. "Oh...! I apologize. Sorry 

Mr. Yin! I didn't mean to be so rude and loud! Sir, I just lost control of myself. I would never disrespect 

you, sir. Please..."

_____"I forgive you, Miss Sera," said Mr. Yin, his voice calming and reassuring. "However, to truly

be in my good graces, you can stand by the positive answer you have just given me. An answer full of 

strong will. So, you will become a professional fighter..."

_____Sera felt a strong stir of will surging within her. If her heart was flesh and not just an electromechanical 

circulatory pump, it would have been fluttering at the moment. "I will do it, Mr. Yin. Just tell me what you 

want me to do next." 

...

3.

...

_____Mr. Yin told her what to do--things that could not be done until tomorrow morning. In the meanwhile, 

there was nothing to do but come back to her room and try to get some sleep. Not that she actually would 

get to sleep that night, but at least she would try. There was going to be a challenging day tomorrow. She 

turned off the light and went to lie in bed. A moment of hesitation, and she sat up to make sure that her 

window was closed.

_____It wasn't closed. Someone had opened it, just a few inches. But how? She was sure she'd closed 

it after that flying nightmare. Her apartment was more than six stories off the ground! Nobody 

was in here but herself. Who could have done this?

_____She put her fingers to the windowsill, ready to close it again. She didn't. Closing the window

would keep fresh air from coming in. At least it was relatively fresh: The air WAS polluted, after all. The

factories in this sector didn't run at night, so the air was better after sundown. It was more reason to keep

the window opened. All buildings had air ventilation shafts, maintained by local handymen and janitors.

_____All of these thoughts about air... Why was she thinking about that? "Stop being so silly," she 

muttered to herself. Of course she kept the damned window open that night. Nobody who lived in 

buildings slept with bedroom window closed. So she leaned back and tried to relax--arms and legs 

straight, face looking to the ceiling--indirectly lit by the city lights outside. It was a long and restless

night. 

...

_____Morning eventually came to the city again. Sunlight became a beautiful reddish glow on the 

eastern skyline, bringing light. The streetlights of the city began winking out. And, soon enough, most

of the working people were up and getting ready for work. All of the streets and sidewalks were soon

busy with people walking and driving vehicles--heavy trucks and lighter executive cars. It was going to

be another day in this sector.

...

_____Sera got out of bed, feeling a little weary. Thoughts had kept her up all night. There was no 

sleeping for her. Well, it was time to get ready for whatever Mr. Yin had for her. She took a towel from

a drawer and went into the bathroom. Showering really wasn't necessary when one's body was made

of metal and electromechanics, one's face and hair synthetic. But it was a good idea to wash--to avoid 

buildups of city dust and grit within the joints of her body's metal surface. 

_____Standing in the shower, warm water poured down on her. She didn't actually "feel" the warm water

pouring over her. She "felt" it through metal--felt the warmth and pressure, but not the wetness. It still 

felt as if she were wearing tight-fitting armor over a flesh body. After showering and toweling herself 

dry, wiping and fussing with her waist-length red hair, she put the towel in a hamper and went to the 

kitchen. There were boxed sugary snacks in the kitchen cabinet. 

_____She leaned against the wall next to the cabinet, boxed snacks in her left hand. She began munching.

It was funny, eating snacks for breakfast. A person usually ate nice hot oatmeal-mush before heading off 

to work. Human people, that is. A cyborg just had to eat enough to keep the brain alive. There were 

lots of funny things about not being human anymore. 

_____Mr. Yin would send someone by within an hour or so of sunrise--probably more of those 

messengers. She looked at the kitchen clock up on the wall. It was around that time. So she closed

the box of snacks, put it back up in the kitchen cabinet. Went to get her little day-purse. 

...

_____When the black limousine drove up to the building, Sera was standing by the entrance. Well, this

was fancy! Messengers usually didn't get such classy long cars: Those were usually reserved for high 

ranking executives of Feng-Long. She crossed the sidewalk and approached the vehicle as one of the 

rearmost passenger door opened to the sidewalk. 

_____"Good morning, Mr. Yin!" said Sera, surprised. Her former--and again current--employer had 

personally come by to pick her up! "I'm really honored that you came by to pick me up yourself. I 

though you'd send someone..."

_____"Ha-ha-ha!" answered the refined bald businessman in the limousine's passenger compartment--

the compartment being much like a scaled-down smaller version of a passenger train's luxury compartment. 

He was sitting next to a dark-haired slim businesswoman in sunglasses. "Good morning to you as well, 

Miss Sera. Do come in..." He gestured to the seat opposite himself. 

_____Sera climbed in. They were going to the local arena--one of just several in this sector. Mr. Yin

gave a summary and lecture about professional fighting. The rules and reasons were just a little different

in this sector. Outside of this sector, in a world of cities still controlled by the Network, cyborg gladiators

fought until the opponent was practically destroyed. The Feng-Long Society ran professional matches 

as so things were a bit safer: Matches abruptly ended when one opponent was brought to his or her 

knees or completely fallen and unable to get up. 

_____Few fighters were actually killed--unless they were remote-controlled robots. That way, Mr. Yin 

explained, experienced fighters wouldn't be killed off ever time there was a championship. And the locals 

liked having their favorite champions around. Ticket sales were higher in this sector than in the surrounding 

places still controlled by the Network. 

_____Sera listened with honest interest. This was going to be her new job, how she would earn money 

for herself. This was going from having sex for cash--to fighting for it. These were two radical extremes,

and Sera was now on the opposite side, opposite from her last job. 

_____Funny, the dark-haired businesswoman in sunglasses said nothing during this entire ride to the local 

arena. As Mr. Yin would pause during his speaking, Sera would glance in the woman's direction. She 

wasn't one of Mr. Yin's working women; she could tell. And she certainly couldn't be one of Mr. Yin's 

bodyguards: The woman's outfit left neck and hands exposed, crossed legs bare from the knees down. 

she was obviously a fleshie--a human. Smooth, golden skin. She sat with back straight and slim arms 

carefully crossed. The woman was someone very important.

…

_____They arrived at the huge arena around nine o'clock. Morning traffic, with all of the trucks, had 

held them up. The limousine drove through the cracked and gritty parking lot around the gigantic

building and stopped at the back entrance--reserved for those who had business here. Two bodyguards

were waiting for Mr. Yin. He and Sera stepped out of the limousine, yet the dark-haired woman 

remained inside.

_____"Ah, now we are to begin," said Mr. Yin as they walked into the back entrance. There was a 

large reception area for this entrance--a sort of environment for white-collar workers. The floor was 

tiled beige marble, the walls painted peach-toned. Florescent lighting blended with the morning daylight

from the glass entrance. 

_____A receptionist--professionally dressed, shoulder-length brown hair--sat behind a desk. She 

stood as the newcomers walked up. "Good morning... And you must be Mr. Yin. Everything has been

arranged and is ready, sir. " 

_____"We all are," said Mr. Yin, glancing at Sera before returning his attention to the receptionist. "Well, 

is the ah…practice fighter ready? The ring prepared? The stands well-maintained?"

_____"Yes to all of those question, sir," answered the receptionist. "The maintenance staff came by

extra early to make sure the stands were in good order. And the pit crew made sure that the sparring

robot was in good condition." She said this with professional discipline and pride.

_____Mr. Yin turned to Sera. "Your fighting skills will be tested using what we have prepared for you. 

Of course, not all matches will be as difficult as the one you will take part in. This is a test, after all. 

Testing if you will be a good competitor."

_____The receptionist nodded. "It's going to be tough, I was told… Sir, some of the junior executives 

are looking forward to seeing this. The sparring robot has a few surprises they said they were testing out."

...

_____Within fifteen minutes, Sera was taken deeper into the vast building and into the arena itself. The 

place was massive. The ceiling was at least five stories up, supported by metal beams--huge lights 

shining down. And all around were bench-like seats, placed on concrete slopes and stairs for the 

nightly and weekend crowds. This place could easily seat thousands of spectators. A person could 

imagine all of those thousands of spectators making an ocean of noise when gathered.

_____But there was no crowd right now. Instead, there were just randomly seated executives who 

just sat anywhere among the seating, in the stands. They were here and there. All of them were 

waiting and watching the performance about to happen. That was what they were watching for--

performance. All of them were skeptical about newcomers to gladiatorial fighting: They just didn't 

think there was enough talent among the general public to really make for good fighters.

_____Which made Sera feel even smaller. Here she was in the fighting ring, surrounded by a circular

wall of reinforced concrete. She double checked her athletic-looking footwear, made sure the straps

were on tight--footwear made of synthetics, specifically designed for cyborgs. Her long red hair was

held back with an elastic band, done up in a ponytail to keep it away from her face. Other than that, 

her sleek armored body was unadorned.

_____What was taking them so long? She looked around, looking at the raised circular wall. Wait...

THERE. There was the sound of an electric lift at the edge of the ring--humming. The sound stopped. 

What the...? Then she saw a blue-colored metal hand clasped the edge of the wall. The other hand

came next--two blue metal hands gripping. 

_____Swish-CLINK! Something swung itself over the edge and leapt down into the ring--landed in

a kneeling position, one fist to the concrete floor. Then it stood, a blue metal monster of six feet. It's

body human-shaped, shaped like that of a man--dressed in red boxer-shorts, red boxing gloves on 

its huge "hands." But beyond that, it couldn't rightly be considered anything like a man. It's metal "skin" 

was covered with black and blue ridges, dark swirls on its chest. Black banding covered the neck. And

the face was something Sera stared at--a jumbled and lumpy mass of flesh with a jagged hole for a 

mouth. Scraggly dark hair radiated from the scalp, a patch of it even on the forehead. Three eyes...

_____Sera wanted to run. No, there was no running. The walls were too damned high. Anyway, the 

blue metal monster was now running at her. The fight was on!

...

_____The long-haired female cyborg readied for the fight--snapping herself into a basic fighting position 

as soon as the thing began its approach. The robotic creature was running at her in the fashion of a true 

monster--long, stomping strides, its armored arms out and ready to pounce. She could hear it snarling, 

heavily breathing through that ragged mouth-hole as it came. Then it was here.

_____Pounce! "Ai-i-igh!" Sera shrieked when the boxing thing pounced on her, knocking her down

and pinning her arms with its boxing-gloved hands. Its ruined face was just a foot away, snarling and 

growling. And she thought she heard the thing laughing...

_____Struggling, she managed to roll away--knocking away the metal monster. It looked vaguely 

confused as it got to its feet. Sera was doing the same, getting ready for whatever else the thing had

ready for her.

_____The thing faced Sera, put its gloved fists on its hips. "Hrr-hrr-hrr..." It's deep laugh filled the ring, 

echoing and resonating off of the concrete wall-ring. "Hrr-HRR-hrr-hrr...!" It thrust a fist in Sera's direction, 

laughing some more. Then it began to hop and skip around in a small circle. The thing seemed to be mocking 

her. Laughing with that nasty face it had, it didn't take Sera seriously! 

_____"Oh, YOU...!" She made a dead run at the thing and leapt, lashing out with her right leg in a leaping

side-kick. She was not going to let that thing pick on her.. 

_____WHAM! Impact! Sera's foot landed on the thing's left arm, and it was blasted sideways, caught 

in mid-skip. Sera then landed, looking at the results of her attack.

_____The thing was knocked away, skidding and rolling... It came to a stop near the circular wall, a

series of long scrape-marks along the concrete floor where its ridge-covered metal skin scraped. It 

took a little while to get up again.

_____"Hrr-hrr-HRR!" Way over there, it then ripped off its gloves. Off came the boots and the boxing

shorts. The metal monster was exposed as being more of a beast now: three-fingered metal hands were 

under those gloves, and the "feet" were lumps of metal. As a final act, the thing tore off its own face

and scalp, like a person would take off a head-covering mask--the synthetic face and scalp plopping

to the concrete floor. Its clothing and discarded face lay in a heap, like laundry. It's skeletal metal face 

was exposed, triple eyes still staring.

_____Then the robot-thing faded from view. "What the...?" went Sera, seeing the metal monster as it 

practically disappeared. It went from being blue, to white, and then it became less distinct--harder to see. 

What the Hell was that thing?

_____She saw the blurry form come at her, and she leapt out of the way. Kneeling, she saw the thing 

standing there. It was like watching heat waves coming up off of a hot road, except in the shape of a 

person. At least now she couldn't see how ugly it looked. 

_____But she could see it--somewhat. She saw it as it walked towards her... Closer... She clenched her 

fists and stood. This nightmare thing was what stood between her and her future. She had to live long 

enough to secure her revenge. 

_____The blurry shape pulled back a fist and prepared to strike. Suddenly, there was an explosion of 

sound--a BLAST of sparks. Smoke billowed from its chest and mouth. And then the metal monster

became visible again--its skeletal gray jaw open in shock, three eyes staring at the foot in its chest.

_____Sera grinned, yanked back her foot. More sparks followed, gushing from the chest of the

metal monster-thing. She saw it sink to its knees, shuddering. Then it fell, face-down. There were all

kinds of squealing and grunting noises from the thing's mouth and chest before a final hiss of static. Black 

smoke billowed from the thing's back. The air over the ring was filling with dark cloudiness and the distinct 

smell of ultra-hot metal, mixed with burning plastic.

_____Gosh, she wasn't even sure if that move would work! Her legs felt a bit shaky now, but it worked.

Now that nasty thing she had killed was just junk. Good thing it was just a robot... Earlier, Mr. Yin 

had told her it was perfectly fine to destroy it. 

_____"Perfectly fine. Ha-ha!" said Sera. She strutted over to the smoldering heap of metal monster

and laughed at it. "Piece of nasty junk!" Giving the thing a few more kicks made her feel better. She

had won this preliminary bout with the modified boxing robot. Now she could enter the upcoming 

professional bouts. 

...

4.

...

_____"Oh MAN! She didn't have to kick me...! Like, I was already defeated," whined Lissette, 

the helmet muffling her voice. The helmet was an shiny, insect-head sort of thing: round and 

plastic, with bulging places around where "eyes" were--earphones making for two additional 

bulges at the sides.

_____That thing covered Lissette's head and had an opening at the back--leaving her dark hair 

trailing out. Her body was covered in something that seemed to reveal more than what it concealed:

a skin-tight bodysuit made of an odd and slightly rough material. Big clunky wheeled boots covered 

her feet, and jointed black "gloves" covered her hands. Several wires were attached to the lower back 

of the outlandish outfit she wore. It was simultaneously the sexiest and the clunky-looking "outfit"

she ever wore.

_____The wires trailing from the outfit were attached to the back of a computer workstation, Jake at 

the keyboard and monitor. On the screen were several smaller windowed images, two of the images

tinted in red. One could look closely at the screen and see that the image in the upper-left corner--

showing a view of the arena ceiling: It was what the blue robot-monster was "seeing" right now, 

after having been destroyed by Sera.

_____"Huh-huh-huh..." chuckled Jake. He smirked as his fingers tapped commands at a 

rapid-fire pace. In the middle of the screen appeared an entire list of readouts. It was a readout that 

only Lissette and Jake would understand, since they developed the computer program themselves. 

But the last line was easy enough to read: "Game Over."

_____"Yeah, yeah... I lost," said Lissette. This outfit is annoying, she thought as she took off the 

sensor-embedded gloves. She had to fumble a bit as the view in her helmet was showing a view 

several miles away, in the downtown arena. Where's the... Oh. There we go. Much better! Gloves 

off and dropped, the helmet was easy to take off. 

_____She walked over to a side-table where she set down the gloves and helmet. The clunky 

boots made clomping sounds as she went to the computer workstation Jake was working at. He 

glanced back at her before returning his attention to the work at hand. "Huh-huh..." he chuckled 

again.

_____"Huh-huh yourself! I planned to let her win, anyway!" said Lissette, pulling up a seat and 

sitting down next to Jake. She crossed her leg and gave a sideward toss of her head, getting 

loose strands of hair away from her face. As she stroked lengths of it behind her ears, she added, 

"That was a lucky hit, that's all. And there's a half-second delay in transmission and processing!

The hardware limitations slowed me down! Besides, YOU were controlling mobility. So you lost, 

too. Ha-ha!" She put her hair up in a simple ponytail, then crossed her lithe arms across her flat

midsection. "Now save the configuration data. We'll probably have to tweak the macros later."

_____"Huh-huh..." went Jake, hitting a few keys to save the data. The blond teenage boy did

all of this while barely paying attention to Lissette--though Joel would have been a great deal

more distracted. The dark-haired girl was quite a sight in that piezoelectric sensor-suit she had

on, especially with the helmet and gloves off. The curves and lines of her young firm body were

revealed and accentuated in that outfit. And she was sitting so close... Not that Jake didn't think

Lissette wasn't attractive. 

_____If he ever wanted to see sexy images, there was plenty of porn to see from computer-stored

archives. And there was plenty of real-life porn, too: Prostitutes and strip-clubs offered more of the 

same. Those sorts of things were fine for short-term distractions, but Jake was usually too tired to 

go out for that sort of thing. "Huh-huh-huh..." he chuckled, tapping a few more keys.

_____"What are you chuckling about now, hmm?" said Lissette, tilting her head to the side. 

The skinny teenage boy turned his blond-maned head away from the computer screen long 

enough to glance up and down Lissette's body before continuing to work the machine. Enough

said. "Oh, I gotcha. I wouldn't want Joel to walk in and, uh... Wet his underpants." She got up, 

disconnected her sensor-suit from the computer. Her real clothes were in the side-room, so she'd

she'd change and shower there.

_____Moments after she went into the side room, there was the slight sound of the shower 

working as Jake continued to review and close the software applications on the computer. 

"Huh-huh..." he chuckled in that way of his. Lissette was a funny kind of girl. It was easy for Jake 

to maintain a working relationship with her, but harder for Joel. A lot harder. Joel had his uses. 

He was pretty good at finding masked connections to the Network, and he was decent around 

breaking the (weak) passcode security on Network servers. If only he didn't get so distracted 

around Lissette...

_____Soon enough, girl-wonder herself walked back into the main room--back in her outfit of 

sleeveless blouse and shorts, hair slightly damp. Flat shoes on her feet. "You know what, Jake? 

Maybe I shouldn't joke about Joel when he's not around. It's not fair. Besides, he's been in love 

with me ever since we first met. I'm not stupid, you know. It's in the way he looks at me 

sometimes. He wants me, but I'm just not interested in anyone right now."

_____"Huh-huh-huh," went Jake. He shrugged before opening other software applications. 

Lissette's love life was her own business. And she usually kept talk of that business away from 

here. She swapped occasional stories about boyfriends and such during nigh club conversations. 

Beyond that, Jake hadn't actually met any of her past loves. For all he knew, she liked girls and

boys. She didn't seem to be dating any recently.... Huh-huh, those thoughts were just worth a 

shrug. Huh-huh-huh...

_____She sat down at the second workstation in here, at the left side of the room. The machine

took some minutes to boot up--especially with all of the custom software and hardware 

configuration it had undergone. The Parasol Club had done its best to find--scavenge--the best 

computer hardware around, but the machines were still slow. This wasn't like the twenty-first

century, where a person could just walk into a computer shop and get the latest processors

and motherboards: Most all the good hardware had to be found in distant scrapyards and. The

machines mass-produced these days were relatively low-tech--because it was all the factories

could make. 

_____Still starting, booting... She would get to work as soon as the machine's operating system 

finally started. The computer workstation had to connect itself to the larger machine--the server--

in this lab. In turn, the server would connect to the data network contained within this sector of

this city. All the local telephone and data transmission lines setup by the Network were put to 

good use--though not by the Network. 

_____Lissette heard Jake chuckle some more. Huh-huh-huh... She sometimes wondered about 

that guy because he never said anything but HUH-HUH-HUH. She also wondered about Joel. 

When he wasn't at the local nightclubs, Joel worked so hard. Or maybe he "worked" hard at 

the nightclubs as well? He really tried to make himself happy when there, talking and drinking--not

dancing much. The poor guy.

_____Yeah, I've fallen in with a real cast of characters, she thought. All of the members of the 

Parasol Club had their peculiarities. Jake was always going HUH-HUH-HUH and never saying 

much. Sam was a middle-aged balding guy who wore pinstripe suits, the oldest member of the

club. Kela was pretty, and pretty weird, especially with those great big strange-colored eyes.

But she wasn't "normal" either.

_____Oh, well... She couldn't make everyone happy. Or hadn't she done enough for people?

She was the one who started the Parasol Club. And she had met with Miss Patsun back when

the Feng-Long Society was just beginning its plans for this sector of the city. Lissette wasn't

a hacker for the money. But it wasn't exactly for the sake of making people here happy--free

of Network control around here. 

_____FINALLY! Her computer's screen flickered a few times when it was done booting. She 

uncrossed her arms, leaned forward and set to work. Before hacking the Network some more, 

she needed to check her electronic mail. All the members of the club knew her electronic 

"address" and occasionally sent her bits of information. Uh oh... 

_____Sam had sent her an e-mail marked IMPORTANT. It was the first time he'd ever done

so. So she used the arrow keys on the keyboard to select the e-mail and open it. Hmm, this

one was going to be trouble--a problem. Not that it was Sam's fault. He was just the 

messenger of bad news.

_____According to this e-mail, Sam, Kela and Joel were at another lab--using a kind of computer 

program to simulate part of a Deckman's cyborg "mind" to check the Network's control 

connections to this sector. It was a standard procedure, nothing major. Using Deckman emulation

software was how Lissette was first able to get into the Network and do some local damage to it. 

_____But they had run into online trouble. They had gotten a feedback message from an 

actual Deckman on the Network. It had warned them that "electronic infiltration" of the Network 

was considered "damaging Factory property." That crime was worth death.

_____Lissette opened her mouth, slumped back in her seat. This was the first time since the 

beginning that one of the machines on the Network had tracked them back and sent an e-mail

reply. Something on the Network now knew that they were hacking... And maybe some 

bounty hunters would be contacted.

_____"They wish!" said Lissette aloud. She closed that e-mail and sent something back to 

Sam's electronic mail account. She wrote up something about Sam not having to worry about

the damned Network sending bounty hunters and all that. In order to put a bounty on their 

heads, the Network would have to know what they looked like. And the Network would need

offices around here to set up a bounty hunter's group. The Network had no control over this

sector of this city. As far as the Network was electronically concerned, this sector of the city

doesn't exist at all. No problem!

_____Clink-clink-clink... What was that? Lissette heard the distant sound of someone coming 

down the metal ladder that led from the surface--the sound of sneakers on the rungs. She looked 

to the right of her computer, set next to the door. Eyes looking at the door. Since her computer 

workstation was closest, she was able to better hear the sounds of someone coming down… 

_____Before Lissette could warn Jake, the door opened! She jumped up out of her seat! 

_____"Hi, people!" said the new arrrival. She was a thin girl in shorts and dye-slotched tee-shirt. 

Her purple hair and sun-colored eyes shimmered in the florescent lighting. 

_____"Kela, you BITCH! You SCARED me!" said Lissette, arms at her sides. She slowly sat 

back down. I thought you were a bounty hunter or something. Couldn't you have at least 

KNOCKED before barging in?"

_____She smiled, squinting those big odd-colored eyes of hers when she began giggling. 

"Hee-hee-hee! Do I ever knock? Besides, how the heck would a bounty hunter ever be able

to find our underground labs? Hunters can't get any bounties around here!"

... 

_____Kela didn't know it, but there was a bounty hunter nearby. Not exactly "nearby," yet 

damned close enough. This computer lab was located under a machine parts warehouse--used 

by Society-run factories. There was a bar conveniently placed across the street from the warehouse

as the few cyborgs who worked here had little to do; all they had to do was inventory parts and

handle security. Truckers handled shipping. This place wasn't busy too often, so the ale house

across the street--named The Silver Rail-- had plenty of business from the warehouse employees.

_____The Silver Rail wasn't much to look at inside: some old metal tables, a big old radio

blaring music in the corner (not that the reception was good), and some bored cyborgs in work

clothes at the drinking counter itself. Then the bounty hunter came in.

_____He wasn't alone. He had along with two good-looking, giggly female enforcers. How the

Hell could a guy like that…?

_____The first female enforcer looked like an airline stewardess from a far-gone century: tall,

slender and in a simple dress suit. A pleasant face, her straight-cut dark hair hung to shoulder-length.

Her left arm was hung behind the neck of the tough-looking bounty hunter, and she was laughing 

and hanging close to him as if she drunk. 

_____In contrast, the second enforcer was blonde and daring sort of dresser--short skirt and a tight

long-sleeved top. Stockings hid the metal surface of her legs. The outfit showed off her (artificial)

curves. Long sunny yellow hair. Though this second female enforcer seemed just as drunkenly 

happy, she hung back from the "couple" and signaled the bartender with a thumbs-up. Yeah, this 

bounty hunter had come to the wro-o-ong part of town.

_____So thought the bartender--a brown-haired man in buttoned shirt and black slacks. He saw

the bounty hunter and the two female enforcers come in. Yeah, a God-damned bounty hunter... 

Those bastards always tried to sniff around this sector of the city for potential rewards even though

the hackers made sure there were none. Didn't those outsiders ever just give it up? At least that 

young punk will be good for laughs. 

_____And the bartender had to keet himself from laughing out loud. Damn, the bounty jerk looked 

like a clown. The jeans and sleeveless tee-shirt combination was just so damned corny! How many

bounty hunters wore that outfit when they first started? Too damned many! Worse yet, the

asshole had on cowboy boots. HA-HA-HA…! COWBOY BOOTS! This ain't some God-damned 

factory-farm, kid! Go back to wherever you came from--before you get yourself killed. 

_____"Hee-hee..." giggled the first enforcer, her lips close to the bounty hunter's mouth. "So 

you're some kind of criminal killer? And you just wanted to, like, have a look around here?

You're the curious type. I LO-O-OVE curious." Mouth opened, she kissed him.

_____Sexual prospects weren't exactly something male cyborgs could really hope for--especially

since they lack the equipment for that sort of thing. All the same, he still had a human brain--a

brain that readily responded to her deep, wet, and delicious mouth. His tongue greedily explored 

her mouth and he relaxed, went with the sweetness of the moment.

_____Which made him perfectly open for what was going to happen next. She reached up and

caressed the back of his neck with her left hand. A quick yank, and his head was suddenly at

an angle it really shouldn't go in.

_____He fell to the bar floor, gagging, sparks flaring from his neck. His eyes were open in 

shock. His mouth was working as if he was still tonguing down the female. Then he began to 

twitch like mad. 

_____"Pathetic," said the dark-haired female enforcer, wiping her lips with the back of a gloved 

hand. "I've had better kisses." Then she raised a foot and brought it down HARD on the bounty 

hunter's already damaged neck. There was the sound of snapping metal connections and wires, 

and the body went still. The cyborg's brain was dead; he was dead.

_____"Wow! Looks like another one for the recycling facility," said the blonde enforcer. "If these 

random bounty hunters showed up more often, our tech-guys would have a steady supply of parts 

to dissect and learn about. But the guy looks like he was made out of cheap parts. Oh well." 

_____…Before you get yourself killed, thought the bartender. Whoops, too late! That must have

been about the fifth bounty hunter to come sniffing around this sector since this month began. 

The sixth would probably come around here sometime soon. 


	6. Chapter 6: The Distant Smell of Somethi...

The Cinnamon Horizon 

by Elliot Bowers 

"The Voice of Love" vocal by Julee Cruise, with lyrics by David Lynch and music 

by Angelo Badalamenti

Chapter 6: The Distant Smell of Something Burning

_____A week passed by since Sera had started her new job: prize-fighter at the arena. Right 

now, it didn't pay much--because she was a newbie. To do something all of one's life and almost 

start over in a new line of work would have been difficult for someone older. But she was still 

young. And because her body was replaced when she was barely an adult, maybe she would 

always be young. Or maybe time and experience could mature her.

_____Now, the red-haired young cyborg reclined in a black long chair--well-cushioned. This 

luxurious recliner was the most comfortable piece of furniture in the room. Otherwise, there were 

some tall metal stools set in front of some cyber-equipment, along with a slotted metal table in the 

middle of the room: the table for repairs and maintenance. This room was a preparation and

repairs room for electromechanical gladiators. 

_____Sera was the one who wanted the recliner in here. And she loved it. The cushioning was 

close enough to real leather to be a real luxury, full of soft material. Not that she could fully 

enjoy the softness of the cushioning, as her armored physique was very insensitive. It still helped 

her relax before matches. 

_____She wasn't really worried about her physical performance. Her sponsor's technicians made 

sure that everything worked before every match. There were even functions of her body that she 

never used before, and the technicians were able to see that those functions 

worked too. So being able to fight was no problem; her body would work just fine.

_____It was her mind that needed the maintenance sometimes. This new job of hers was 

outrageously stressful. With her previous job, all that she had to do was... Well, it was a great 

deal more relaxing than this one! The bouts these past seven days have been painful. She had 

taken blows to her limbs and midsection--miraculously avoiding hits to her head. Yesterday, a 

few attacks to her chest had dizzied her before she was able to pummel her opponent into 

submission. Were these matches becoming harder?

_____A door opened. "Almost time, Sera. Can't keep that crowd waiting!" said a man's voice--

one of the arena's staffers. He was a chubby kind of man who tended to dress in slacks and 

short-sleeved office shirts. Sera didn't know exactly what the guy's job was. She just knew that

he was some kind of manager.

_____"Oh, okay..." she answered. The cushioning flexed as she sat up and looked around the 

hard room. The hard metal and plastic of the furnishings gleamed: cyber-equipment lit with 

florescent lighting. Standing, she stroked back wayward lengths of hair and began walking 

towards the door. 

_____The manager-type was still standing there, leaning against the door jamb, his thick arms 

crossed. He put on a sly smile as he glanced up and down her sleek body. "You look hot, 

but you don't sound hot, girl," he said as Sera stepped out into the dim, industrial-style hallway. 

_____They both took a left, walking down the hall. Now the sound of the crowd was audible. 

It was a roaring kind of sound that echoed along the hard walls and floor. "Hear that? That's

the crowd! They're cheerin' for YOU, because the wanna good fight! You gotta have HEART 

if you wanna fight a good fight! Besides, you're making damned good money from the start." 

_____"I'm not doing this just for the money, okay?" said Sera as they approached the end of 

the hall. The sound of the lake-sized crowd was massive now. A person had to speak up to be

heard here, but it wasn't just necessity that made her put some volume into her voice. Now she

was a little angry. "I'd tell you why, but I suppose my whole life's story is probably plastered all

over the newsprints." They walked a few more steps, and she added. "Yeah, and now everybody 

who works here knows and it'll be a HELL of a lot harder to get the last bastard I'm after because

he's probably gone into hiding! Or he could have just left this whole damned sector!"

_____"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha...! Not true, babe!" said the manager-type. He began walking closer 

to Sera and spoke up. "Listen to me, doll. You weren't supposed to know about this until later. 

So you didn't hear this from me. There's something you've gotta know about that rogue cyborg

you wanna kill. That guy named Carbon."

...

_____"GYA-A-A-H! You silky BITCH! So YOU'RE the one who had this done to me! N-n-rgh!" 

Drool and froth flecked away from Carbon's mouth as he angrily whipped his head side to side. 

His synthetic face was twisted up with angry madness, eyes bulging. "Rr-r-rgh... My boys and I 

would EAT over-sexed sluts like you for dinner AND the next morning's breakfast! I DARE you 

to come over here! I'd tear out a bloody piece of your throat with my BARE TEETH! ARGH! 

COME HERE! C'MERE-C'MERE!" 

_____His threats echoed bounced of the large windows at one end of this room--seats in front 

of it. Below the windows were video screens that gave closer views of the fighting ring itself. 

This floor was carpeted, and the ceiling was made of echo-dampening tiling. It was part of the 

soundproofing that kept the roar of the crowd down to a faint and distant sound. The room 

was a "skybox"--luxury arena seating suspended above the crowd.

_____The skybox seats were reserved for VIP's--Very Important Persons--like the high-ranking 

executives of the Feng-Long Society like Miss Patsun. And here she was, two bodyguards 

standing by the door. Her slim figure was dressed in a dark silk gown, matching her night-dark 

hair. Her smooth face showed no real reaction to the threats made by Carbon. Or what was left 

of Carbon. 

_____His mouth was probably the only dangerous thing about him left...because his metal arms 

were removed: severed with diamond-edged spinning buzzsaws and pulled off with clamps. The 

legs and pelvis were gone too; his torso was practically cut in half with industrial equipment. Enough 

of his torso was left to hold in the machinery that served for his artificial organs. He was now bolted 

to a metal table on wheels. Suffice to say that the cyborg had lost a lot of weight. 

_____Miss Patsun wanted this jackass alive. She wanted him alive at least long enough to serve 

as a prize for Sera. What the cyborg-girl did to him was her business after that. But she wanted 

to put out a little punishment herself. 

_____She would not tolerate being disrespected. "You, come here. Come hold his head still," 

she said to one of her bodyguards. The dark-suited figure stepped away from the door and 

walked over to the wheeled metal table. Carbon grunted and snarled as metal hands closed on 

his head. The machinery of his neck was not strong enough to break the grip. 

_____He turned his eyes to see Miss Patsun standing close by, next to the bodyguard that held

his head. "GET CLOSER! ARGH!" he shouted. "I can't BITE you from here!"

_____"What...? Do you want to see my blood?" asked Miss Patsun. "It seems so, because you 

have been shouting for it for some time now. I suppose granting this sort of request would be 

the only way to shut your mouth..."

_____Carbon went silent for a second, stopped trying to get his head out of the bodyguard's

metal-handed grip. Then he began struggling again. "HELL YES! I wanna see your blood! I 

wanna see it everywhere!"

_____"Hmmph..." said Miss Patsun. Her dark eyes looked down at where Carbon's body was 

cut away. She put a pointer-finger there, stroked it along the dangling wires and jagged metal 

where his big steel belly was once joined to his metal pelvis. Her fingertip stroked sharp edges, 

and she began to apply a little pressure.

_____"Hey... HEY! Watch it, bitch!" grunted Carbon. "What are you doin' down there, huh?"

He tried to tilt his chubby-faced head up, trying to see. But he was securely bolted and couldn't

adjust himself to see. Anyway, his big metal tank-belly got in the way of the sight.

_____Patsun's hand twitched when the delicate fingertip was pierced--drawing a swelling red drop 

of blood. She then raised the fingertip, looked at it. Speaking to her bodyguard, she said, "Do you 

have a firm grip on the head? Good. I don't want him to turn his face." 

_____She moved around to the side, raised her fingertip, then deliberately dripped her blood onto 

Carbon's ceramic eyeballs. "What? WHAT...!" he said as the liquid covered his sight. Blink and 

struggle as he might, he could not turn his head nor keep the warm red liquid from covering over his 

eyes. "ARGH! You fucking skinny-ass BITCH! YOU'RE gonna be MEAT, you hear? 

R-R-R-RGH! O-OOH! I'll...!"

_____"I asked if you wanted to see my blood," she said, turning from Carbon. She licked her

bleeding fingertip, then clenched the hand into a fist. "You said you wanted to see it everywhere. 

I simply granted your desire." 

_____She heard the mutilated cyborg yowl and grunt in response, cursing and complaining about 

his eyes. Satisfied, she and her bodyguards now moved away from the wheeled table--getting over 

to the seats. Tonight's fights were going to begin sometime soon, once the huge crowd had settled

down. They didn't want to miss the opening exposition: tantalizing fights before the main course!

Yet the opening fights were exactly why the high-ranking female executive was here, also why 

Carbon was mutilated and brought along on such short notice.

_____She sat over there by the skybox windows, looking out and down on the massive spectacle

spread before her. The smaller video monitors below the windows showed various angles of

the arena, but she stared out at it all. 

_____The raucous crowd was a sea of jostling, cheering humanity held within this vast 

bowl-shaped arena. With the arena's overhead lights dim, the individuals in the crowd seemed 

to blend together into one gigantic mass. They filled the seats to near overflowing, all around 

the brightly lit fighting ring below--a large white concrete circle. 

_____So many things led up to this moment. Too many things? Though Miss Patsun's eyes 

were looking out the window, her focus was inward: on her thoughts. She had the notion of 

just simply GIVING Carbon over to Sera. It would be so easy: Just stop the young cyborg from 

going into that arena and hand over the big metal mutilated bastard. Wrap him up in gift-paper. 

Tie a pretty bow around his neck. Happy holiday, Sera! Here's the last cyborg you wanted to 

kill.

_____Ha-ha-ha...! No-no-no, that would not do. Miss Patsun knew that Sera would get more

from killing Carbon if she earned the chance to do so. She, the executive, knew this because 

she had undertaken a few acts of revenge herself. Maybe that was why she cared so damned

much about Sera. Or maybe she cared because she had no one or no thing else to care about.

When a person had reached the heights of power within a small kingdom, the lives of little people

could became hobbies.

_____As she sat by the window, thinking and looking, the mutilated cyborg continued to make 

noises. His noises were loud and obnoxious anger sounds before. His sounds were turning to 

pained sounds. He was now without arms and legs for at least ten hours, bolted to this table 

they wheeled him around on--like some damned meal on a cart! Then that bitch coated his ceramic 

eyes with blood. No matter how hard he blinked, the stuff covered up all he could see. His eyesight 

was coated with a layer of darkening red. And when the blood dried, he would be in more trouble. 

_____He tried blinking more fiercely, tilting up his head and grunting some more. Now he was just

reacting, grunting and shaking his head--in a world of his own suffering. A thinking mind can be 

reduced to the level of an insect when there is enough physical pain and trouble: merely reacting

to sensory input.

_____What the...? Things were getting quiet. First, Carbon thought that his artificial hearing was

malfunctioning. No, that wasn't it. He had the idea that someone was deliberately dampening his

hearing. Then he began to hear a too-familiar rhythmic sound. It was the gentle hushing rhythm

of a push broom being brushed along a hallway. That meant... Fuck!

_____Exposed wires and tubes of Carbon's shoulders and lower body began to heat and 

spark as he tried to run. But there were no electromechanical limbs connected to those wires 

at all. The wires were just heating air and sputtering sparks as the cyborg tried to RUN. But

no one escapes the faceless one with the broom, even if one did have legs to run with.

_____"No... No! N-n-no! No-o-o-OH! OH-WHOA!" he yelled, consumed with his own fear. 

He felt a hand closing over his head, and then he felt that hand somehow close over him completely. 

Then he felt himself shoved into a small dark place.

...

_____Outside of the arena, out in the parking lot, there was the faint low hum of the underground

power station. A person could hear it--even feel it--if one stood in the right spot. This was the

right spot, outside of the streetlamps that lit up the flat lot, away from where the executives' 

personal cars were parked. There was a disturbing gust of wind, and some of the streetlamps 

flickered. Something just happened.

...

_____Carbon found himself in that Other Place. It was that place where he could barely see

anything, a place with flat and smooth floor. The wind howled on through, carrying the sound of 

THEM giggling. THEY were all around him. Like that time he (foolishly) tried to chase the Janitor 

into the sewer about a week back. What a fucking dumb idea. It was like a worm trying to chase 

a hungry, sharp-toothed lizard. 

_____Now he was the worm. Now he was swallowed. Down in the darkness, he waited for

whatever was going to happen next. There was no running, no screaming. There was nothing

he could do but look. 

_____Hee-hee-hee...! THEY were giggling at him. Carbon looked around and saw them 

starting to skulk and stalk. Like before, he couldn't tell who they were. Hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee! 

He was in for it now!

_____Click. Squeak... Click. Carbon heard a door opening in the darkness, somewhere on the 

right. Footsteps clacked along the dark floor. High heels? Someone moved a chair, sat down. 

The giggling sounds reached a high point...then shut up.

_____A flash of bright light slashed down from above, burning away a portion of the darkness! 

Now he could see the Dream Woman--sitting at a table, dressed in that pale silk gown of hers. 

The florescent bright whiteness of her skin matched the bright ghostly tone of her hair and her 

gown. In contrast, her lips were deep red, as red as her large blood-red eyes. She looked generally 

human but wasn't. Couldn't be.

_____The Janitor stepped into the scene, into the spotlight that shone down on the Dream Woman. 

He made a gesture, and three bowls appeared on the table. These were gray bowls, made of 

some hard and shiny material--powdered metal and ceramics. Two of the bowls were empty. 

One of them was half-full of something that looked like oatmeal sprinkled with a lot of cinnamon.

_____"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha....!" Her high laughter pierced the darkness as she lifted one of the

empty bowls. The bowl seemed large in her left hand, at the end of a slender arm. Swish-WHAM! 

Shards of the bowl exploded in all directions when she SMASHED it against the table. Someone

screamed in the darkness, a familiar scream. What the Hell? Who would scream over a broken 

bowl? 

_____She tossed the leftover bowl-shard she had in her hand, then the second bowl on the table. 

"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!" Swish-WHAM! Yet another gray bowl was shattered against the hard 

shiny top of the table. There was another familiar scream in the darkness, this time someone else.

Just smashed to jagged bits. 

_____There was one bowl left--the one half-full of cinnamon oatmeal. Glowingly pale hands 

wrapped around the bowl. The blue-capped Janitor leaned closer to the table and watched 

with deep interest. "Ha-ha-ha...!" laughed the Dream Woman. Then Carbon felt everything go 

down. He seemed to be floating above the dark floor before he felt himself blown to the side by 

unseen forces and... He gave soul-tearing scream.

...

_____When he recovered consciousness, he found that he could see a little. His eyelids had 

kept blinking while he was out, managing to wipe away enough of the blood to give him at least 

blurry vision. Damn, it was dim here. He saw that they had dimmed the lights in this skybox as 

they watched the opening of tonight's events. 

...

2.

...

_____WHAM! Joel slammed down the now-emptied glass. "Why the FUCK doesn't she like me? 

HUH?" The glass had hit the table pretty hard. Luckily, the thing was made of tempered glass. It 

would have broken otherwise. Very drunk people could be careless and hurt themselves--doing 

some things they would later regret.

_____"Really? You haven't told me everything," said the darkly clad stranger seated across from 

Joel. He was a cyborg, though his dark outfit covered most everything but his metal hands and 

his synthetically-fleshed face and head: dark clothing. Dark jeans, dark leather jacket, and black 

sunglasses, he also had dark crew-cut hair. Though his face and hair were synthetic, he had on a 

real leather jacket, which was rare. Leather usually cracked and fell apart in this city because of 

certain toxic pollutants in the air. Somehow, his jacket didn't 

_____His voice was also unusual. The stranger's voice had a somewhat tinny sound, meaning 

that he had a rather old-fashioned voice synthesizer. How old, one couldn't be sure: Parts were 

parts, and cyborgs took the best of whatever they could get to keep their bodies working. More

desperate cyborgs took anything they could find--even if the parts were of low quality. This 

stranger didn't seem like the desperate sort, though. He had a calm and smooth sort of confidence

that led people to trusting him.

_____It was even easier for drunken people to trust him, like Joel here. Drunken people were 

vulnerable sometimes, easily gullible. That was especially true when they were depressed. So 

the stranger--intent on getting Joel more drunk and gullible--tilted the red bottle, pouring some 

more wine into Joel's glass. Drink up, fool.

_____Joel did, drinking some more wine. "I understand, Joel," said the stranger. "I understand 

A-A-ALL about it. I was young once. Of course, I'm talking about the times of my HUMAN 

youth--prior to becoming old and becoming what I am. I grew old and have enjoyed the 

companionship of many beautiful girls in my time. Some were kind, and some were some cruel." 

_____"Y-yeah..." Joel gulped some of the wine. The whites of his eyes were reddened, and a 

line of drool did a quick drop from his mouth. It took some effort to successfully put the glass 

back down on the table without spilling what was in the glass. To him, the table looked unstable 

and far away. Everything looked and felt far away. Because he was drunk of course! Yeah, his 

world was all softened up with a comfortable warm red haze. Mmmh, goo-o-od wine...

_____The stranger noticed that Joel's eyes beginning to glaze over. That was the stranger's cue 

to say something invigorating and keep Joel awake--keep him from falling into a drunken slumber. 

Don't sleep now, boy, thought the stranger. You still have too much information to tell me! 

And I want you to tell all! Tell me more about this oh-so-pretty hacker-girl that hurts you so 

much, who hurts my current employers even more... 

_____"Funny how the most pretty girls are sometimes the most cruel," said the stranger. The 

stranger himself didn't really believe what he just said; he just said it to slap up Joel's emotions--

keep him awake. And, BINGO! The boy suddenly straightened up as if high-powered electrodes 

had goosed his back muscles.

_____"Wha...!" BURP! What do...YOU know about pretty girls?" asked Joel. He tried wiping

his mouth to clear his speech. Then he leaned forward, elbows on the table. "Tell me. What the

fuck can I do to... You know... Get her. I want her. How do I get the pretty girl? Right now,

she's being a bitch! She HAS to love me..." 

_____"Well now!" said the stranger. He gave an exaggerated look around the bar. No one was 

looking over here, of course. "You have such mean words for the young lady who has captured 

your attention! I said that pretty girls could be cruel, but I did not mean ALL of them." He leaned

forward and spoke in a lower tone. "But just between you and me, from one man to another, I'd

say that I have discovered all of the meanest pretty girls just need the right kind of treatment. Like 

this beautiful Lissette of yours. Secret, SPECIAL treatment."

_____"REALLY? TELL ME WHAT TO DO!" Joel got up and nearly stumbled atop the table. 

Heads turned to look over here. "TELL ME HOW TO GET HER!" He shook with excitement, his

normally well-groomed dark hair was now loose and unkempt.

_____"Joel, be calm. You are drawing attention to yourself!" said the stranger, smiling. "It's a 

secret, remember?" The stranger then gave an exaggerated wink. "Now just sit back down, and 

I will tell you all about it."

_____"I hear you," said Joel. Burp! He slumped back down in his seat and shook his head, 

slapped himself in the face--had to sober up to hear what the man was going to say. "Okay, 

okay... I'm listening!" His voice went up a few notches, but he kept it under control.

_____Ah, yes... I've got you now, boy! "It is rather easy, Joel. You have to relate to her in a way 

that relates to what she does. I know that she is a computer spy, a 'hacker.' Now tell me more. You 

must tell me more before I can give further advice." 

_____Just then, a certain look flickered on Joel's eyes. It was a look of clear worry and hesitation.

The look cut through all the drunkenness and the confusion that filled his head. Then the clarity

began to fade--sinking beneath the waves of intoxication again. 

_____He blinked a few times, and the clarity was gone. "M-maybe I'm not supposed to tell you 

some things. E-everybody knows about th' Parasol Club. 'Cept strangers..." HICCUP! "Wait a 

minute... Are YOU a s-s-stranger?"

_____"What, ME? What ever do you mean?" The dark-clad stranger feigned shock. "Why 

I'm your friend! I'm someone you trust, right? If I WAS a stranger, you would not have been 

holding a conversation with me right now."

_____Still, Joel held back. He was now in a quiet stupor. Head tilted downward, he regarded the

dark-clad cyborg. Something was still wrong here. Something at the back of his mind was telling 

him to shut up and run away. 

_____"What's wrong? Have some more red wine, Joel," said the stranger. He reached forward,

gently pulled Joel's drinking glass across the table and nearly filled the glass. "It is very good stuff.

And it is good for digestion, be your insides real or artificial. It will let you swallow anything." 

Indeed, it will even let you swallow the God-damned lies I tell you! 

_____"Thanks..." Hiccup! Joel took back his glass and had himself some more of the red liquid.

Was it really wine? It tasted more like wine cooler, but sweeter. He drank down the entire glass

and another rush of comfortable warmth filled him. Why did he just insult his new friend here? 

Insulting friends was wrong. The cyborg couldn't be a stranger, someone from outside of this sector. 

Strangers didn't give good advice and good wine. Well, Joel would have to remember to ask the

guy where he got the red wine. He never had such good stuff. Oh yeah, this was damned good 

stuff, even better than the shipments of locally-made wine that was supposed to head for Zalem. 

_____"I would surely forgive you if you told me about this girl of yours. Or rather, the girl you 

wish to have." He paused. "You can HAVE her, Joel. She can be all yours, like a replicant 

servant to you deepest...personal desires." He smirked, but drunken Joel just saw it as a smile. 

"She may seem fiercely independent, but all she needs is a good man to come along to subvert her

will." The stranger was barely able to keep himself from laughing aloud at what he was saying. 

But the boy was JUST SO GULLIBLE! "And it all depends on how much you can tell me about

what she does. What you do with her. Because the more I know, the better I can help you..."

_____"Do you really mean it?" said Joel. All the while, there was this feeling at the back of 

his mind. Something still irked him about this guy in dark clothes. But that feeling was all clouded

over with drunkenness. It was an irritation at the edge of his mind. 

_____The irritation was like a casually dressed midget far and away, deep back within the foggy 

mist of his drunken mind, telling him to stop! But that imaginary well-dressed midget of 

consciousness was no match for the mind-clouding might of this special red wine. Nor was that 

imaginary midget any match for the thought of having Lissette naked and into bed. 

_____Why the HELL was he thinking about a midget? Hmmph, must be this wine... HICCUP! 

He hoped there was nothing but alcohol in this stuff. No telling sometimes what they put in some

drinks around here. Snore. 

_____"As I was saying..." he heard the stranger say. Then everything lapsed into deep red waves 

of comfort. Joel's whole world was all swimming in happy warmth and bliss. He heard a low wind

blowing through, pleasant and seductive...

_____Whoa! This damned good wine must have knocked him out for a few seconds. Joel had to 

tell that darkly dressed man about the Parasol Club. This, as so the guy could tell him how to get 

Lissette. "This is h-how we get things done," he began. "Y'see, the Network may have a SMART

mega-computer thing runnin' it. However..." He raised a wavering, drunken right hand, finger 

pointing up. "It's s-security isn't worth SHIT! Heh-heh-heh... I said shit. Y-you HEARD me? 

Shit-shit-shit-shit-shit-shit..." BURP!

_____"I have heard you," said the stranger. "Such language from a young man of your bearing! 

Anyway, please go on. What were you saying about Network security? What do you do about it?" 

_____Now THIS conversation was getting good. He suspected something like this for some 

time, but here was this drunken boy telling him outright. It was one thing to suspect something, and

it was another thing to hear the truth. Here it was, sitting here in the form of a drunk person.

_____"So it's just so damn' easy to jus'..." HICCUP! "Jus' set up some servers an' get to h-h-hacking!

We crack Network security like frozen ice on top of... What was I sayin'?" His head swayed and

his eyes wandered, as if he could find his train of thought floating around the bar's tables. "Oh 

YEAH..." He gulped some more wine. Burp! "An' to get 'round the REST of the butt-crack 

security, we jus' use some s-special sof'... Software we made our own damn selves. Some of it,

we just--heh-heh--borrowed from some Deckmen. 'Course, the Deckmen won't miss it b'cause

we broke 'em." 

_____"Ve-e-ery interesting," said the stranger. Just interesting? Hell, this was SWEET information--

getting increasingly sweeter by the second. Using Deckmen software to break through Network

security, now who would have thought that? Who would have thought that the ignorant masses

down here on the planet's surface had brains enough to pull a trick like that? 

_____"An' we got bi-i-g computers," said Joel. He threw out his arms as if he could show that 

stranger how big the computers were--nearly made him fall out of his chair. "Really, r-r-really big. 

I mean, we prob'ly have got the biggest fucking machines in the whole damn sector. Bigger than 

any machine in the whole city!" Hiccup! "But you wanna know wha' the bes' part is?" 

_____"Really? What is it?" The stranger refilled Joel's glass, the metal hand gleaming in the bar's

lighting as the sparkling red wine splashed into the glass. Go on, boy. Spill your secret. That, as

so I may spill your guts. Empty your head of secrets--so I can chop it off and sell it! 

_____"Wanna know where we keep our hacking computers? In s-s-ecret places. We got 

SE-E-ECRET labs. Undergroun'! Most nobody knows where they are," he said. 

_____Uh oh... Now that damned imaginary midget at the back of his mind was acting up again, 

really yelling up a storm. He wasn't sure what that imaginary midget was saying, but it had 

something to do with cinnamon oatmeal and giving away secrets. Some crazy stuff like that. 

_____The stranger took out a notepad and a pen. Had Joel been sober, he would have noticed that the 

pen was made by a company that was dead and gone for a very long time. Sober, he would have noticed

all the peculiarities of the stranger. He would not have been telling the stranger anything in the first 

place.

_____Too bad! The wine had Joel's lips more loose than a thief's moral code. So he told the

stranger the locations of the computer labs. There was one beneath two night clubs. Oh, and there

was one in the converted basement of a certain restaurant. Another one was in a modified 

sewer-room near the arena in this sector. There were more...

_____"Thank you," said the dark-clad stranger. "Thank you very much. You cannot know just

how helpful you have been to me and my pursuits. Were it not for you, I would not have known

where to look for your criminal friends and their destructive actions against the network."

_____"Now you can tell me how to get Lissette," said Joel. "Wha' do I do? Try an' ask her out

the next time I go to the lab? Do I brin' her to a club an' dance with her? TELL ME!" Now he

was going to get it.

_____"You will have Lissette--in your dreams," said the stranger. He pocketed the strange pen

and notepad, putting them into his dark leather jacket. "You won't have to worry about dreams 

anymore, though. In fact... You won't have to worry about anything, anymore."

_____"What the HELL are you talking about?" blurted Joel. Then his eyesight became covered

over with a deepening red mist. He shook his head to try and clear it, instead fell to the floor. He

heard the imaginary midget screaming and banging on a table.

...

_____He was a fool to trust the stranger! Why didn't he LISTEN? But the imaginary little man 

soon went quiet. And then came the singing. It was the singing of a woman in white gown, lilting

and sweet--such a sad song. It was almost as if she was crying. Joel felt himself going down and 

away, into the darkness where the singing woman waited. He had never met her before, but now 

he would. 

...

_____"Poor bastard. He must have had too much to drink," said the dark stranger to the others 

in this bar. He got up from his seat and walked around to where Joel's body lay slumped on the 

floor. The trouble with strange red wine was that the stuff killed human brains. It made

people tell the most amazing secrets, like sodium pentathol, but was more powerful. Unlike 

sodium pentathol, though, this special red wine could not be found anywhere on Earth.

_____Outside the bar, the poor bastard's dead body was soon in the trunk of the stranger's car--

a black Mustang convertible. Joel's internal organs would make a pretty decent dinner after the 

dark-clad stranger had gotten back out of this sector of the city. And after he told his employers 

about Joel, he would get a tidy sum for the head. So the dark car roared off into the city, flames 

sputtering from the tailpipe. The roar was deep and throaty, like the sound of a beast from Hell.

...

_____In the Other Place, the spotlight came on, and the Dream Woman was sitting at the table.

She put her small hands in her lap, waiting. But not for long. The delicate musculature of her neck 

corded as she looked to the left--seeing the Janitor emerged from the surrounding darkness. 

_____He had returned. Standing here, he carefully laid a cracked, empty bowl atop the table. 

It was empty, but not clean: there was a reddish residue along the inner rim. The oatmeal was

gone from it, yet it left behind the cinnamon contamination.

_____She understood. Nodding to the Janitor, she then made a gesture to the bowl. It vanished,

faded off of the table. She knew that the cinnamon was becoming stronger. There was going to

be more of it. Cinnamon would darkened what was in more bowls.

_____Bowing once, the Janitor turned and again returned to the shadows. A door opened, and

he had left again. He still had work to be done. So long as Carbon was alive, the Dream Woman 

would have the Janitor to do her bidding. The Janitor would continue to exist. 

...

_____Sera's foot slammed right through the damaged abdominal armor of the cyborg. It had taken 

her a good eighteen minutes of straight pummeling and dodging to weaken the bastard enough to 

finish him off. To last that long despite being damaged meant she was getting good. Indeed, the 

main reason she used kicks to finish him was because her right arm was damaged. 

_____The massive crowd, all around, made a massive roar of sound! They not only shouted, but 

they pumped their fists, whistled and stomped their feet. What a show! Oh HELL yeah, the 

red-haired cyber-chick was GOOD! She could kick ass!

_____After the defeated cyborg was taken away, she stood in the ring with her left hand on a 

hip--right arm hanging loose. The fight over, she took in a deep breath--the air in this ring smelling 

all thick with smoke. 

_____"Here ya go, babe!" said the manager-type, coming into the ring after the broken cyborg 

was taken out. He had a lumpy bag in his left hand. "This has gotta be worth plenty. Heh-heh...

A nice little prize." 

_____Sera turned and took the bag with her left. Her right arm feeling shaky, she had to fumble 

a bit to open up the bag--which had credit-chips... But the credit chips were covering up something 

else. Hmmph... Shaking the bag around revealed the head of someone familiar: the head of a cyborg 

hit by a truck. Gale's head. Now she was sure that he was done; there was one more to go.

...

3.

...

_____Later that night, the executive's four-seater car approached the apartment complex where Sera 

made her home. He was going this way anyway, so he was glad to give Mr. Yin's favorite cyborg a 

ride home. Mr. Yin himself had to talk to some entertainment executives; he was probably going to 

try and negotiate more pay for Sera. After all, she was good for a newbie.

_____Though the man in business suit tried small talk and congratulated her on a series of 

fights--back-to-back victories--she was generally quiet. She kept her hands on the round bag in 

her lap. Was she happy or sad? He couldn't tell because there was just the indirect lighting of the

streetlamps illuminating the inside of this car, and that long red hair of hers obscured her expression

from the side--hid her face from the driver's side. 

_____He had to concentrate on driving, anyway. This wasn't like a few centuries back, when

cars could drive themselves. And back then, there were street signs and signal lights at streetcorners

to make driving somewhat safer. Not these days: Driving took a great deal more skill.

_____"Hey, thanks for the ride," she said, slinging her small purse over her left shoulder--taking up 

the prize bag with her other hand. She then opened the car door and got out, began walking towards 

the brightly lit front entrance of the building. 

_____Good night to you too, thought the executive as he watched Sera walk away and getting

over to the foyer. Over in there was a bored-looking security guard. He opened the steel-and-glass

door for her as she walked in. If only the security guard knew what was in that bag she carried.

Oh well, that wasn't the executive's problem. He shifted the car's gearshift and drove off into the 

city night.

...

_____Up the elevator and along the hall, she unlocked her apartment door and stepped in. Arm 

raised, she flicked on the light and closed the door. Looked around... It was very quiet here in the 

front room--the armchairs and couch unoccupied. Regardless of how many times she came back 

here, she always expected people to be here, to welcome her back. 

_____Of course she still missed her family! Damn it.... She sniffed, blinked, and walked over to 

the armchair. The low coffee table in the middle of the room was the perfect place to set the prize 

bag. (She wondered why they ever called it a coffee table. People never served coffee in their front 

rooms these days...) Bag on the table, she opened it up and sat back in the armchair. 

_____The cyborg-head now rested in a low pile of credit chips. And it, the head, just happened to 

be positioned as so the eyes were staring in the direction of her armchair. Blue eyes in a middle-aged 

face looked forward. They were still and unmoving eyes--the eyes of the dead. Funny thing about 

synthetic faces: They looked "alive" even if the brain was dead. 

_____You're dead, thought Sera. And if I had ever seen you again before that truck hit you, I 

would have been more than glad to kick off your head myself. I can't have my family back, but I

can sure as Hell have your head on my table! Hell... HELL!

_____Sure...as...HELL! "Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha...!" Sera found herself laughing aloud at the statement.

The dead, wide-open eyes continued to stare at her and had no response. She didn't care; at least

SHE thought it was funny. But the head just stared, stuck in an expression of surprise and fright.

_____She leaned back into the seductive comfort of the armchair, feeling obscenely sleepy. Darkness

and exhaustion began to close over her brain, shutting her down. There was something wrong with

falling asleep while staring into the eyes of a severed head. She just didn't know right now. Nor

could she care. The girl-cyborg was just too tired to care.

_____Gale's dead blue eyes stared at her, still wide open. And Sera felt herself being pulled into

that gaze. Everything else seemed to fade out as those eyes stared. Into the stare... The black

pupils in the blue eyes seemed to swallow everything. 

... 

_____Swish-swish-swish... A tired-faced man in bathrobe opened his apartment door enough to 

poke his head out. It was barely sunrise. Why was the cleaning crew at work so early? Though 

the sound of the broom was gentle, it still managed to get his attention. He looked to the right, 

saw someone in blue coveralls and cap. 

_____The Janitor was in the hallway, coming in this direction with that broom of his. Swish-swish

swish... His presence in the hall was as much audible as it was visible. As he came by, there was 

the sound of his broom brushing the floor. It was the sound of the Janitor at work... Swish-swish-

swish. 

_____Staring, that man in the bathrobe watched the Janitor go by. The sound, it was a rhythmic 

and whispery sort of sound--that gentle swish-swish-swish of the broom. Swish-swish-swish went

the broom. Oddly enough, the Janitor's broom wasn't on the floor at all...

_____For some reason, this frightened the man in the bathrobe. If the man with the broom wasn't

making that sweeping sound, then where was it coming from? What was going on here?

_____Swish-swish-swish... The Janitor walk past his door. The man in the bathrobe stared, 

dumbfounded, as the Janitor continued to walk along the hallway. Then he was gone, a breeze 

blowing through the hallway. Even after the Janitor had gone, the man in the bathrobe stayed there 

for a very long time. 

...

_____The sky changed color. It went from red-edged sunrise to bright blue morning. Sera's 

body was still in the front room of her apartment, not in the bedroom. Then her body stirred as

she returned to consciousness. It took a little while as her brain was just getting started. As only 

her brain needed sleep, she shouldn't have had to be unconscious all night. What was wrong with 

her?

_____She had fallen asleep staring into those dead eyes. Oh yeah... She had a dark and terrible 

nightmare. Awful, horrible. Lingering thoughts from it troubled her. Was it ever a good idea to 

sleep with a severed head on a table? 

_____It had changed, too--the head. Sera stood up and knelt down in front of the low table. The

head was very different now, radically changed. Instead of rugged synthetic flesh on the face, it was 

now shriveled and blackened, tightened onto the metal skull. Charred. The hair had soot in it and 

smelled like smoke. And the artificial eyeballs were clouded with damage. A clear, colored liquid 

had seemed from the nose and ears. It smelled... cooked. 

_____It was just a dream, wasn't it? A nightmare? The nightmare was about being in a dark 

place, standing at a door. There was fire on the other side of the door, she knew. Why had she 

been laughing in that dark place, laughing while someone burned? How did the head burn?

_____"This isn't happening," she said aloud. "That wasn't real." Her voice sounded painfully loud 

in the quiet of her apartment. The neighbors in the adjacent apartments were most all off to work

by now. Other than some stragglers and the maintenance crew, this building was almost empty of

people. 

_____This damned severed head was trouble, she knew. She knew Gale was dead, so there was 

nothing to do but toss his now-charred head down the waste disposal. And she needed a drink,

something strong. None in her apartment's kitchen, though--nothing in there but some glucose-rich

snacks in the cabinets, with some glasses she used for water. 

_____She went over to the door that led to the apartment's bathroom. There she showered her

metal body and silky red hair. There had been some dark smudges on her face, which washed

off too. Her day purse was still in the front room, along with that damned charred cyborg-head. 

She would get both before leaving her apartment.

...

_____Some time later, she was out and away from her apartment. She was now at one of several 

local clubs--a table to herself and a tall drink in front of her. Earlier, Sera had dumped that 

charred--and quite smelly--cyborg head into a trash can in an alley somewhere. She didn't even 

remember where; she just got rid of it. And she planned to never again get into a staring contest with 

dead eyes again.

_____She had kept the money from the prize-bag. Or should she have called it a head-bag? The bag 

had looked an awful lot like factory sacks those bounty hunters use in other sectors of the city: white 

in color, with a tie-off sort of top. 

_____Mmm.... She sipped. This was good bourbon. Though she lost the privilege of enjoying 

most physical comforts, she could still enjoy the fiery taste and warm feeling of a good drink. And 

it got her mind off of that head she had dumped.

_____Feeling vague and off-balanced by the drinks she had consumed, she saw things in a sort of

daze. So the sudden influx of fleshies and cyborgs in business suits and work clothes was 

something of a surprise. They came in through the front entrance, sitting down at tables and going

over to the drinking bar itself. Wow, it must be the afternoon already.

_____Had she been here that long? She wondered that, wondering while a great deal of activity 

was going on around her. The hustle-and-bustle sound of a fresh lunchtime crowd was all around

as they ordered food and drinks from the waiters and waitresses.

_____What was the hurry? Sera didn't seem much of one. She had all damned DAY to do a

lot of nothing! She should probably call Mr. Yin this afternoon to see what was up with whatever

was planned for tonight's match. Something like that. Not that she cared right now. Why did she

care?

_____Why did ANYBODY care? Another gulp of her drink, and she looked at the business-types

sitting at the table next to hers. "Why do you care? Why does ANYONE care about ANYTHING?" 

she asked aloud, somehow keeping her voice from slurring. "And why all the rush and hurry?" 

_____"Don't you know?" said one of the cyborgs in expensive businesswear. He glanced past 

Sera, then went back to talking to his three comrades. He had treated Sera as if she didn't know

anything.

_____She leaned forward and dipped her head enough to put her mouth down near the glass. 

"Hmmph..." she said into the glass. Then up tilted her head, up tilted her glass--tipping more of her

drink down her mouth and down her throat, the liquid going into her body. The alcohol getting to 

her brain.

_____Then everything went quiet, a glow coming from one end of this restaurant. Everyone had

had hushed. Sera set down her drink and looked to her right. A stage. There was a curtained 

STAGE over there, and she hadn't even noticed. A blue spotlight shone onto the stage. 

_____The sound of high-heels clicking came as the singer stepped out from behind the curtain. 

She was thin and dark-haired, dressed in a sleeveless black satin gown--low cut. It exposed a 

lot of her milk-toned skin. When her large eyes looked to the crowd, they sparkled green. They

were the most dreamy and wonderful eyes Sera had ever seen.

_____But the singer closed those jewel-like eyes of hers. Sera almost wanted to beg for her to 

open them again! Just so beautiful... Then the music began--the notes of a sad piano and electric 

organ. Both were probably pre-recorded. Yet the singer's voice was real--incredibly real. The 

young cyborg could hear the voice coming directly from the singer and from the speakers attached 

to the microphone. Beautiful singing...

WHEN... When all the world fa-a-lls

And when... When you are here

There's a glow ju-u-ust li-i-ike the stars

I hear a distant voice

Listen. LISTEN...

I DREAM, I dream of STAR-LIGHT

I dream, I dream of you-u-u

There's a glow just like the sun

I hear a distant voice

Listen... LISTEN!

I hear the VOICE

I hear the VOICE

I her the voice...of lo-o-o-ve...

_____The singer bowed her head, and the instrumentation faded off. This crowd was stunned 

silent before they let loose with much applause. Sera was herself too stunned to clap herself. Sera 

could feel sadness welling within, and it was getting hard for her to breathe. Sobbing, the young 

cyborg waved over a waitress, set a few credit chips atop the table, then got up to leave as that 

waitress approached.

_____There were no tears from Sera's eyes, yet she was racked with sobs. The pain of misery was 

just so deep, too deep. It was like a blade in her chest. The sound from within the singer was just 

too beautiful for Sera to take right now--music so beautiful that it hurt.

...

4.

...

_____She was not hurting as much as Joel was hurting at the moment. Well, not hurting as much 

as Joel's BODY. Joel was beyond worldly pain now. It was high afternoon, and his corpse was 

in bad shape, having been jammed into the trunk of the low black-painted car. Worse was how it

shifted and bounced around in the trunk when the vehicle was in motion. It wasn't the streets to 

blame for the jarring and unstable ride: it was the driver. Because there was so little traffic on the 

road, the dark-clad stranger had an excuse to drive like a madman. He turned corners with tires 

squealing. This made for a clumsy THUMP at ever sharp turn as the dead body shifted and 

flopped about in the trunk. 

_____Worse yet, the dead meat was beginning to stink. Black is a color that eats sunlight and 

turns it to heat, so the black-painted trunk of the black car was pretty warm; it made the body 

pretty ripe an hour into the drive through the city streets. And, damn it, even driving with the 

windows open couldn't stop the stench.

_____The dark-clad stranger wasn't much of a fan of bathing, being metal-bodied and not needing

to wash, but he didn't like people who stank. The stink also meant that his dinner was getting 

spoiled. He should have packed some ice or something into the trunk....

_____Hmmph. One of these days, he was going to install cooling units into his trunk: great for 

packing beer or bodies. It would have come in especially handy on this drive. Yeah, the cooling

would have kept the stink from starting!

...

_____He slowed down into a residential area, brown-bricked apartment buildings all around. 

There were plenty of fleshie kids in ragged clothes, running around and doing whatever: playing 

with broken appliances and what-not on sidewalks and in vacant lots, along with some dirty dogs 

that probably ate trash. In general, they were just hanging around and making noise. It took a 

little effort for the dark-clad stranger to suppress the urge to veer his vehicle and ride along the 

sidewalk--running over some of those skinny, scraggly brats. 

_____All children were vermin to him, big rats with human skin. They were randomly scattered 

all over the place: on sidewalks, on front stoops... Hmm, yes, maybe he would take out a spare 

day and start running some over. Right now, he had to deal with the stink of the dead body...somehow. 

He turned his car into a pretty wide alley--which had trash and fleshie kids in it. Trash, fleshie kids,

what's the difference? 

_____The kids ran as soon as the dark stranger out of his vehicle. He was probably one of those 

"crazies" their parents and local adults told them about. You know, the kind of cyborg that 

goes nuts and starts killing human kids. He'll probably try to eat us. So let's get out of here!

_____"Run, vermin..." he muttered, watching the kids run. Yes, was a pretty good and wide alley. 

Not only did he have enough room to open his car door and walk out, he also had enough room to

walk around back and open up the car trunk. He thumped it a certain way, and the mechanism 

popped open. 

_____Disgusting... What a terrible stink! The dead body really looked dead now--limbs bent 

every which ways from the driving, a deadpan look on the face. Ha, deadpan! Get it? Smirking

despite the smell, he put his hands on his hips. What to do, what to do, what to do...? Then the 

solution hit him as hard as the stench.

_____Stupid, stupid, stupid! HE DIDN'T NEED THE BODY! All he needed was the head! So 

he fumbled about in the trunk and found the bonesaw. Left hand gripping the bonesaw, he used

his right hand to grab the body by the head of hair and... Alley-oop! He yanked the body out 

the trunk, dropped it to the alleyway pavement. Still gripping the head, he began sawing into the 

rubbery flesh of the neck. 

_____It didn't take long. He took the shirt off the now-headless body to catch some of the blood 

dripping from the head's neck-stump. He closed the trunk. "Well, dead-head," he said to the 

severed head, "It looks like you and I are still going to continue our little road trip--body or none."

Carried the shirt-bandaged head over to the driver's side and leaned in enough to shove the head 

into the glove compartment. 

_____The glove compartment WAS equipped with a refrigeration device to keep bounty heads 

cool and relatively fresh. You see, he had thought of THAT some time ago. The glove compartment

was metal-lined and big enough to hold cold meat-snacks (whatever that meat may be) and bounty

heads... 

_____Wait just a second. He had the feeling that he was being watched. The dark-clad stranger 

could sense when people were nearby, a well-developed sense. So he stepped back out of the 

car and looked around. Damn kids! They were spying on him from the alleyway entrance.

_____The cyborg still had the bonesaw with him when he stepped out of his car and began walking 

towards the back of the vehicle, where the body still way. Crouching, he cut off the dead body's hands 

and feet--shoes still on the feet. Then he set the bonesaw atop the car trunk and stood, holding a severed 

hand in one hand and a severed foot in the other. 

_____"Hello, kiddies!" he shouted, voice getting louder. "Let's play FOOTBALL! Get it? 

FOOT...BALL! AAH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA..." He leaned back with one arm back, then 

let loose an awesome throw. 

_____Swish... THUMP! He had hurled the severed foot, hitting one of the kids over there. A 

skinny, raggedy boy was knocked onto his back--wide-eyed with fear. It was more emotional 

shock than physical shock, his eyes wide open as he sat up and looked at the foot.

_____"You poor kids could use a hand..." added the dark-clad stranger. He leaned back, an

exaggerated and wide-eyed grimace on his face--leaning back with left arm cocked as if he was 

going to throw a ball. Except, in this case, the "ball" so happened to be Joel's right hand.

_____The kids helped up their fallen comrade and made a run for it. They didn't want to end up

like that guy who was in the trunk! He was dead and headless, all chopped up now! The 

grown-ups were right; the crazies WERE out to kill fleshies.

_____That little incident done, the stranger in dark clothes wiped the bonesaw on the corpse's 

pants-leg and put the tool back in the trunk. He stepped into his car, closed the door shut, and 

maneuvered out of the alley--meaty crunchings sounds coming as his car wheels drove over the

body. Out of the alley and on the road, he turned right and continued his drive.

...

_____He passed several intersections when he began talking to the severed head in the glove 

compartment. "There's nothing quite like an afternoon drive in the city," said the dark-clad 

stranger aloud. "Oh, don't be such a stiff. You can talk to me..." He glanced over at the glove 

compartment before slowing down at the next corner: Trucks were passing. This sector of 

outlaws must have a pretty well-developed local economy, shipping all of those goods around.

_____Stopped at this intersection, he had that feeling again, being watched. He looked to the 

right, looking through the rolled-down car window. The Janitor was standing on the sidewalk, 

right hand on his broom. It looked as if he was going to do something.

_____The dark stranger forced himself to look away. Though slightly frightened, he deliberately

put on a smirk. "Guess what, head? It seems that there is someone in this sector from...somewhere

else! But, oh-h-h... Don't you worry! He won't be able to get me. I know the rules!"

_____Good, the intersection was now clear--the trucks done passing. He lowered his foot on the 

accelerator and drove on. There was the sound of his car's engine rumbling along the city road, the 

wind whipping through the open windows as he continued his ride, driving along the hot road. He 

saw the occasional cyborg and gaggle of kids along the way.

_____And he saw the Janitor again. He slowed his vehicle and eyed the guy in blue coveralls and 

hat, the broom set to the sidewalk. He was looking right at the Janitor, and the Janitor was looking 

right back at him--head slowly turning as this dark car went on by. 

_____This was disturbing, physically and mentally. Seeing him gave the dark-clad stranger a cold 

feeling within his artificial chest. For a being like the Janitor to appear in full daylight meant that 

something had gone very wrong in this sector. 

_____But the dark-clad stranger was prepared. Just as he had senses strong enough to detect his 

bounty and sense people nearby, he also had sense enough to be prepared against the likes of the 

oddball in blue coveralls. "Oh yes," he said aloud. "I've got just the thing for you, my creepy

blue-wearing friend..." 

_____A friend? No, a fiend! He took a hand off the steering wheel and hit a switch near the 

dashboard radio. Instead of the noisy prattle of the local radio stations, there was a different sort 

of sound altogether: a low hum coming from the car's hood. It was the sort of sound made as the 

strange machine turned on. (The damned thing must have had a name; it was just that the dark 

stranger never bothered to remember it.) 

_____But it wasn't a good idea to just ride around with the strange machine activated all the time.

The problem with using the strange machine was that it sucked so much energy from the car's 

electrical system. And, it caused him a headache.

_____The hum wasn't what gave him the headache. It was something else generate by the machine.

And the dark stranger wasn't exactly how the thing worked. Oh, it snagged the fabric of reality or 

something illegal like that. He had obtained the device from some abandoned laboratory somewhere-

once run by someone named Dr. Nova. 

_____The headache meant that the thing was working. It made the dark-clad stranger uncomfortable,

but the discomfort would be six times worse for the Janitor if he were to try and follow this vehicle! 

The stranger had to be careful: That fiend with the broom would probably be extra sure to get him 

if he turned off the strange machine while still in this sector, because nobody was supposed to have a 

strange machine like the one in the trunk. Nobody.

_____Whatever! As far as the dark-clad stranger cared, it worked. It kept that creep in blue 

coveralls out of sight and out of mind. For the rest of the ride, he didn't see that Janitor any more. 

It was worth the double price of headache and possible car trouble.

...

_____It was getting late into the afternoon by the time he drove out of the sector run by Feng-Long. 

There was no exact transition between that sector and the rest of the urban landscape, but there was 

a difference. There were fewer people--fleshie or cyborg--out walking the streets. More people 

were at work in the factories, working later. The buildings were a bit grittier, though still standing. 

And there were fewer vehicles on the roads, a lot less traffic. Overall, things were a lot more 

practical and organized when the Network runs things: people at work, factories humming, and the

city was one great big machine. All the people and all the automations were parts.

_____And that was the way things were under Network control. Thank God for that great big

computer up in the floating City of Zalem! It ran the factories and gave bounty hunters great 

rewards for keeping the worthless masses under control, keeping the ignorant masses from doing 

such counter-productive things as destroying industrial property and killing each other. 

_____His big black vehicle stopped right in front of the gigantic white building that served as a 

Network headquarters. It was a massive structure, stretching up over forty stories to the sky and

taking up three blocks of space. Most of the building's space was occupied by computer-machines

and Deckmen, keeping things running: a cybernetic bureaucracy.

_____Having parked, he turned off his car--was glad to power down the strange machine in the 

hood, stopping the headache. A metal hand to the refrigerated glove compartment, and he took 

out Joel's cooled head. Lifting it to eye level, he said, "Here we are, head! This is where you get 

dropped off and where I get paid for my services to the Network." Then he stepped out of the 

vehicle and walked up to the entrance of the mountainous building, carrying Joel's head by the 

hair.

...

_____First inside was a gleaming white-and-gray foyer, a cube-shaped room. A reception Deckman

was set behind a desk, like a kind of man-sized appliance. Like most Deckman, that one was a 

metal cylinder four feet in height--with big rubbery cheeks and lips near the top, round black 

cameras for "eyes."

_____"Good afternoon, Mr. Stranger!" went the Deckman's tinny voice. Its big blubbery rubber 

lips flexing as it spoke. "I see that you have brought a head! Are you here on bounty business?" 

_____Having human brain parts integrated into Deckmen made them smarter than most machines. 

But they were still machines. And machines lacked common sense at times. Machines were more

reliable than people, yet they lacked sense sometimes.

_____"That is exactly it, my highly electromechanical friend," answered the dark-clad stranger. 

He hefted the head. "And THIS is sure to be worth something." Walking closer, he asked, "Is 

the bounty supervisor available?" Nowadays, it was better to ask instead of just trying to walk in. 

_____"Yes, the bounty supervisor is available," answered the Deckman. "However, please be advised 

that some technical difficulties are present within the Network and is leading to intermittent 

interruption of operation. Rest assured that these technical difficulties are being addressed."

_____The dark-clad stranger frowned, his leather jacket creaking as his shoulders slumped. "Yes,

understood. I hear you. At least the Deckman is operational, you say. You are operational, still." 

_____Hmm... This continued news of Network problems worried him. There was talk going 

around about problems in Zalem. But those were probably just minor technical woes. Yet Zalem

was centuries old, as was the mega-computer that ran it. It would continue... Right?

_____"For access to the bounty supervisor, please step into the left hallway and go into the sixth

door on the left," said the Deckman. Part of the sectioned back wall slid aside, revealing a brightly

lit hallway beyond. 

_____The dark-clad stranger walked past the Deckman-and-desk setup, walking into that 

hallway. He knew where the bounty supervisor's room was, having been here plenty of times. The

metal door on the left slid opened up and into a metal-lined room: metal floor, metal walls, and a 

metal counter-top--with a Deckman installed in it. "Please enter, hunter," went this Deckman--a 

slightly deeper voice than that of the receptionist Deckman.

_____He did, stepping inside. "I have here the head of an unregistered fleshie. The head of a 

cyber-criminal!" he said, voice echoing off the metal walls. "Our suspicions were correct. A group

of computer spies, also known as 'hackers,' are responsible for disconnecting an entire sector from

Zalem's control."

_____"If that is true, then analysis of the brain will serve as evidence," answered the bounty 

Deckman. "The analysis of the brain will be especially effective if you have kept the head refrigerated

to reduce breakdown of the neurochemicals."

_____"Ha-ha... That I have, my friend," he said. He stepped up to the counter, and a thick round

tray opened up. He set the head there. The edges of the thick tray closed and gripped the head. 

This tray setup was connected to a motorized metal rod that began lifting it up to a circular hole in 

the wall--where heads were deposited... 

_____What? That motorized tray stopped halfway to the wall. It was held up in the air, with the

heady payload stuck there. Lights flickered, and the bounty supervisor made some odd chittering

noises. Its lips flexed as if it was trying to say something.

_____There was a whirring sound, and then the head-tray resumed its movement towards the 

head-deposit hole in the wall. "I apologize for the interruption in service," said the bounty Deckman.

"That was a slight malfunction. Please be assured that the interruption in Network operation was 

just a temporary glitch. Now, here is your preliminary reward!" A big sack of credit-chips raised

up out of the counter. "More will be given if the computer hacker theory is proven by the analysis

within the head. If not, and analysis of the head disproves your theory, then you yourself will be 

declared a common murderer and will have a bounty on your own head. Have a nice day!"

_____Taking up the sack of cash, the dark-clad stranger smirked. That would be pretty damned

ironic: a bounty hunter ending up with a bounty on himself. And the Deckman said it in such a 

non-threatening, cheerful manner: a threat with a smile. "You have a nice day too, Deckman-036,"

answered the dark-clad stranger. 

...

_____After a telephone call, he walked out of the massive building--the sack of credit-chips slung 

over his shoulder like a small laundry bag of wealth. He set down the bag and leaned against the

white wall, holding the sack loosely. Waiting... 

_____Some time later, he turned his lead left, looking at the trio walking in this direction: two 

males and a female. All three of them had their own style of outfit. Uniqueness was part of bounty 

hunter pride.

_____The female cyborg was somewhat on the short side, a pert face and shoulder-length green

hair. Her metal body was clad in red jeans and red leotard top. "Hey there, Stranger!" she said. 

"We got your message. So what's up? Are we gonna RAID the sector or what?"

_____"If suicide is your game, then go on ahead," answered the dark-clad stranger. He saw a 

look of wide-eyed shock come to her face. "Sorry, Mai. Let me explain. That sector is better-organized 

than you would believe. They have a full-blown setup, run by an entire criminal organization."

_____The taller male bounty hunter shrugged. This one wore a trench coat and fedora, had a 

gruff attitude. "Hell, that doesn't sound like much of a problem! We just call on the rest of the 

bounty hunters in other areas. You said that the Network was willing to post PLENTY of 

bounties for this deal. We can get as much help as we need. Know what I'm sayin'?"

_____Hmmph... Funny he should mention Hell, thought the dark-clad stranger. He spoke to the

tall cyborg wearing the trench coat and fedora. "That's quite an attitude, Stevedore. But attitude 

alone won't help you against what's in that sector. I should also tell you that they have their own 

anti-bounty hunter force, as well as a mysterious stranger on their side." 

_____"Why are YOU scared?" asked Mai. "I thought you were good at dealing with mysterious 

stuff! You could just do some weird things and get rid of him... Right?" She looked around as if 

she expected something to come out of nowhere and get her. The dark-clad stranger had told 

her--or tried to tell her--about people who weren't quite people, about people who were not quite 

from around here.

_____He answered. "Let's just say that this mysterious stranger is pretty strong at the moment. It 

would be best if we waited this one out a little. Wait until the coast is clear." He enjoyed seeing

puzzlement come to their faces; they had never heard that saying before.


	7. Chapter 7: Dipped in Hell

The Cinnamon Horizon 

by Elliot Bowers

Chapter 7: Dipped in Hell

_____While the Dark Stranger handled business, the afternoon grew later-sunlight growing dimmer.

In about sixty minutes, sunlight would be a golden glow on the western skyline. People would soon 

be getting off of work for the day, filling the sidewalks while heavy trucks carried goods and executives 

drove their cars. This made for busy roads in the dying light of the day. Soon enough, people would 

be home and things would calm down--settle down.

_____Sera tried to enjoy the view, how the fading sunlight seemed to coat everything in soft golden

tones. But it was becoming a bit hard for her to focus her eyes. Drinking did that to a person, made 

things harder to see. She was sitting at one of those indoor-and-outdoor restaurants in the downtown 

area--at one of the tables. A bottle of white wine was in the middle of the table. Did she drink enough? 

Well, she was still sober enough to ask herself that question.

_____"Well, miss?" asked the waitress: a red-bodied female cyborg, wearing a waitress' outfit--because 

she was a waitress! (Sera giggled at the thought.) Her clothes looked somewhat like an old-fashioned 

maid's dress from centuries ago. "Miss, your party left some moments ago. Of course you are welcome 

to stay here, but..." She looked around. "It's going to be dark in about an hour and well... Some crazies 

are on the loose, from other sectors."

_____With a wasted look on her face, eyes bleary, Sera looked at the waitress. "Yeah, it's getting 

dark..." she said. Her eyes looked to the wineglass--noting how the orange light of late afternoon 

slanted through it. "It always gets dark, every day, right? Nothing anyone can...do... The darkness

is always coming, every day. The night always gets us."

_____"Umm... That's right," said the waitress, trying to be friendly. "Every day comes to an end,

I suppose." The waitress played along with this philosophical extrapolation until she could figure 

out a way to convince the red-haired cyborg to go home or something. 

_____"So like... Yeah, it's like a statement on fate. Every day ends and the stars are supposed to 

come out!" The waitress just then realized her stupid mistake. "Oops..." 

_____Sera gave the waitress such a look! STARS coming out? What the fuck! Because of the 

extensive air pollution and the blaring city lights at night, the stars hadn't been seen over this city for 

over a century. Saying that the stars were visible was like saying a massive flock of songbirds would 

take flight the next morning and fill everyone with a sense of joy. THAT was crazy talk: birds and 

stars! Air pollution eliminated the enjoyment of both. 

_____With the waitress standing there and looking stupid, Sera said, "I think...it's time I went home.

Hmm, yeah..." She leaned back from the table and reached into her small day-purse. "How much?"

_____"Your party paid the tab," answered the waitress. "They paid in advance--left a little extra, in 

fact. I'll go call a taxi-cab for you." In case Sera got herself plastered on the wine, the messengers had 

left instructions--including Sera's home address for a cab to follow. They wanted Sera rested up for 

tomorrow morning; she had to get home that night.

_____And the taxi cab did come. The waitress used the money given to her by the messengers, paid

the driver more than enough, then gave him the address to Sera's apartment. More importantly, she 

told the driver that Sera was valuable to a certain high-ranking executive of the Feng-Long Society. If 

the cab-driver didn't see to it that Sera made it home safely, then the messengers woudl... Well, let's not 

talk about that.

…

_____So the chubby cab driver successfully got Sera back to her apartment building. He even 

parked the vehicle and led her up to the entrance. That wasn't enough; she was getting drowsy. 

He had to wrap one of her metal arms around his shoulders and help walk her to the elevator. 

She lived on one of the higher floors. 

_____Geez, cyborgs are HEAVY--even the females! For such a nice-looking cyborg, nice figure 

and all, she sure weighed plenty! And this elevator was taking its time, getting up to the right floor! 

Ah... FINALLY! The elevator doors opened, and they were on the right floor. 

_____Straining, the chubby cab driver helped Sera to her door. It was almost like shoulder-carrying

a damned solid steel statue! And that wasn't the hollow kind, either! By the time he got her there, he 

was panting and sweating as if he'd run a few marathons. 

_____At her door, Sera was somehow able to fumble open her purse and take out her door-key. 

She staggered on in to her apartment and shut the door. Then there was a painful-sounding 

THUMP when she hit the floor, probably falling unconscious. At least she was home safely; the 

cab driver wouldn't be punished now. He did his job.

...

_____Inside of the apartment, the young cyborg lied on the carpeted floor. These last few hours 

were such a blur. Somehow, Sera remembered the invitation--the reminder card in her purse. 

Miss Patsun had invited her for tomorrow's breakfast. Several messengers had seen her at the 

indoor-outdoor restaurant and gave her the invitation, gave her some hints about how to behave 

at a formal meal. Miss Patsun could be quite picky about etiquette sometimes. Ha-ha-ha...

_____WHAT! Sera began to hear someone laughing, and she thought she saw flames flickering 

along the walls... "Ah!" she gasped, struggling to sit up! She just had a glimpse into a nightmare, 

a glimpse surprising enough to frighten her. Then she felt herself losing consciousness... The 

sounds and feeling of the oncoming nightmare became stronger. 

_____There was no fighting it. Sadness and drunkenness conspired against her to put her to

sleep. She struggled and whimpered, but the darkness and laughter closed over her. She heard 

sounds of wind and distant sounds of fire crackling. 

...

_____She sat down at a long table, covered with a white tablecloth. There was a candelabrum 

in the middle, but the candles had melted. All around, dancing along the walls, there was fire! 

THE WALLS WERE ON FIRE! Yet Sera didn't seem to mind. Somehow, the tablecloth was

unaffected.

_____"Aah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha...!" came the soprano laughter. The Dream Woman appeared at

the seat way over at the other end. She raised her slim pale arms and tilted back her head. "Ha-

ha-ha...! It is such blissful music! Listen to the chorus of cooking oatmeal! HA-HA-HA-HA...!"

_____Sera didn't hear anything at first. Then she did. Just beyond the crackling sound of the fire,

she could hear screams. They were sheer sounds of pain, coming from beyond the burning walls. That

must be the "chorus" the Dream Woman was talking about.

_____The Dream Woman then lowered her arms, lowered her gaze to look at Sera. Then the 

flames faded away--revealing the damaged walls. Very damaged, the walls looked horrible: 

bubbled and blackened paint, cracks throughout. The sheer ugliness of the walls was even visible

in this painfully dim lighting. 

_____Now the screams were especially audible. It was as if there were people outside of this strange

room being tortured. But there was more to it than that... Sane people didn't scream the way THOSE

people were! 

_____They were trying to shout something garbled, shout through those burned walls. Mewling, twisted 

gibberish... Then came the pounding, the THUMPING! Thump-thump, THUMP! THUMP-THUMP-

THUMP! Were they trying to get in?

_____"You know, darkness ends every day," said the Dream Woman. "And cinnamon is stronger at

night." She smiled a sharp-toothed smile. "It is time I learned to enjoy cinnamon... You will as well."

_____What? Just then, a bowl appeared in front of Sera--a bowl full of cinnamon-flavored oatmeal. 

Damn, there was so much cinnamon in the oatmeal that it practically covered the surface of the food! 

There so happened to be a silver spoon here for Sera to use, and the flames from the walls had heated 

the oatmeal nice and warm. So Sera just picked up her spoon and dipped it into the mushy food... AND

As soon as the spoon pierced the surface of the oatmeal, SOMEONE SCRE-E-AMED! 

...

_____Her head full of pain, she got out of bed... Bed? She didn't remember actually getting to her

bedroom last night. Her last memories were of being at that restaurant and getting drunk. Yes, she 

had deliberately aimed to get herself thoroughly wasted yesterday. Then those messengers gave her 

an invitation to breakfast with Miss Patsun--that high executive of the Society. 

_____That's right. She had some work to do today, before tonight. When and EXECUTIVE invited 

you to breakfast, you went! It was time to get up: headache and all. So... "Ow-w-w..." she moaned, 

up and getting out of bed.

_____She staggered and swayed as she walked towards the doorway. Her right hand went to her head 

while her left hand went to the doorframe--steadying herself against the dizzying nausea. Now she had 

a hangover, and she had to do something about it. It just wouldn't be good manners to show up at 

Miss Patsun's breakfast table looking like the undead. Some carbohydrates to feed her brain, along 

with some water, would be a start. 

_____Squinting and feeling dizzy, she left her bedroom and went towards the kitchen. Maybe if

she had not been so nauseous, she would have noticed that her bedroom window was wide open.

The outside winds freely howled in.

_____In the apartment's small kitchen, Sera had a simple box of breakfast candy and a glass 

of water atop the table. The kitchen light bulb was expensive, but it gave off a soft glow that 

made the square table seem cozier. Munching on some sugary, minty squares, she looked at 

the box she was eating out of. It was a very plain box simply labeled, BREAKFAST 

CANDY--no fancy designs or coloring. She remembered reading some newsprint article 

about how, centuries ago, boxes of food were put into packages with silly colors and stupid 

names. Advertising, it was called: bringing attention to certain products.

_____There was none of that here! The food around here wasn't served in silly colored or 

funny named packaging. Sera supposed that was true because there was no need for that 

"advertising" stuff. When there were only a handful of corporations making everything, why 

advertise? People would buy it, anyway. She also remembered reading that things were 

the same a long time ago, too: all things being made by just several gigantic corporations. 

Except, way back then, they had something called "public government" and "police." The public 

government was like the computer up in Zalem, or like the high executives of the Feng-Long 

Society. 

_____She reached into the box of breakfast candy and got another handful of the sweet crunchy

squares. Munching on them, she wondered about how it would have been like to live back then--a 

time before cyborgs, a time before wars and pollution made the world the way it was today. It was 

hard to imagine. The cities were smaller back then, too--surrounded by big areas full of green land

and funny animals, birds flying in the sky.

_____KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK. Oh, fuck! That must be the messengers! What time was it? She 

glanced up at the clock. Ouch! Turning her head too quickly sent a spike of pain through her still-achy 

head. Anyway, it was 6:36: not too long after sunrise. 

_____"BE THERE IN A SECOND!" she shouted. OW! Whoops! She just now remembered: NEVER

shout with a hangover headache! Well, it wasn't so bad now, though: A little achy, but the hangover was 

fading. She closed the plain box of breakfast candy, drank the rest of her water, and put everything away.

All she had to do was grab her day-purse before getting to the door. Three business-suited cyborgs

waited for her.

...

_____They took her over to Miss Patsun's office building in typical Feng-Long high-executive fashion: 

a long black car, driven by a professional driver. It was just an hour before the morning traffic would hit 

the roads, so they were going to make it there in good time. They were going to be there thirty minutes 

ahead of schedule--so the messengers told her. 

_____And they were early. With the golden morning sunlight shining from the eastern skyline, the

messengers escorted Sera up to the entrance of the office building: a tower of annealed steel and 

tinted glass. Inside, the first floor was a huge atrium of potted plants and marble flooring. The 

reception's desk was across the way, flanked by bodyguards. Two elevators were beyond that.

...

_____A short elevator ride, and they arrived at the dining floor. The messengers walked Sera up

to double brown polished doors--two huge bodyguards standing here. She noticed that the doors 

were made of real wood, very expensive. The doors opened up, revealing a scene set for fancy 

dining.

_____"Have a seat at that end," said one of the messengers. Sera walked in, stepping onto the 

black carpet. She walked towards the end of the long white table and sat down. The walls seemed

to be paneled with wood (extremely expensive!), and there was some kind of huge cloth-draped

statue attached to the left side of the room. A chandelier illuminated the space. Here at the long 

table, where Sera sat, there was already a plate here. Right of the plate were silver chopsticks; to 

the left was a spoon. She had seen this place somewhere before. Hmm...

_____The elegant executive, Miss Patsun, herself walked in--slender and clad in black. Miss 

Patsun's pleasant face had little makeup beyond some red lipstick, and her body was covered with

a sort of close-fitting gown with a currently fashionable black jacket over it. A bodyguard pulled

out a seat for her at the head of the long white table, and she sat. "Ah, good morning, Sera! You

have arrived in good time..." Having said that, she looked up at the bodyguard--who bowed and

went to go signal the waiters.

_____"Good morning, Miss Patsun," answered Sera. She gave glances to the waiters in white, the

servants who came in wheeling covered trays. One of the covered trays had lightly boiled shrimp 

and rice--for Miss Patsun, who readied her chopsticks. The other covered tray had a bowl of 

delicious-smelling breakfast food, along with a small side-dish of breakfast candy. She hadn't seen 

this kind of breakfast food before, but it smelled good. "Gosh...!" she said, looking around, "I'm not 

used to this kind of attention," she said.

_____Miss Patsun smiled. "It is no large inconvenience," she said to the red-haired cyborg. "After 

all, I have made you my...special case. I so happened to hear of what had come to pass--with

three enforcers gone rogue. I wanted to be sure that--in your case--things would be set right,

that you would be able to do something about those who harmed you so. Helping you is helping

maintain a balance between right and wrong. Balance is healthy. Yet...my assistance does not 

come without cost."

_____"Cost...?" asked Sera. She thought about her moderate income and her just-as-moderate

stash of credit-chips--which was cut in half when she paid for her body replacement operation.

Besides, Miss Patsun must be one of the richest people in the whole sector, if not in the entire city.

"What kind of cost, Miss Patsun?" she asked, almost too afraid to ask.

_____Miss Patsun took in some rice with her chopsticks. She swallowed, smiled. "Oh, just some

favors. Favors which will be beneficial to us both. These are favors that will bring you experience

and skill." She folded her hands beneath her chin. "You see... Sera, are a prime candidate for a 

high-ranking enforcer's position. My business partners have personally seen you perform in various 

fighting venues. You have only been trained a week, yet your skills and potential are said to be 

amazing. They say that you wrote out the technical specifications for your own body..."

_____"I barely remember doing that," admitted Sera. "It was weird. Like, it was me...and NOT me,

at the same time. Something... Someone put ideas in my head that day, when I went into the 

cyber-clinic."

_____"Who would that be?" asked Miss Patsun, dark eyes widening in curiosity. "This sounds

like a very interesting business. Is this some kind of ah... Muse? A kind of figure that brings about

inspiration?"

_____"I'm not sure what you're talking about, Miss Patsun, but I guess it's something like that,"

answered Sera. She barely understood what the executive was talking about--wasn't too sure,

either. "But about being an enforcer. I'm not sure I'm strong enough yet."

_____"Hmm..." said Miss Patsun. "But you WILL find the strength to be a good candidate for 

enforcer-ship, Sera." She smiled a dark smile. "Especially after the promise of what I have to 

offer you--IF you do complete what I have outlined for you." Miss Patsun turned her head to look 

on one of her bodyguards. "Show her."

_____The bodyguard went to the wall, where something was covered up. Up until now, Sera 

had practically ignored the draped sculpture-thing over there. Now the bodyguard had pulled 

away the draping, and she saw what was beneath: the armless, legless torso of Carbon--head

still attached. He was still alive. Sera would do what was necessary to end his life. 

_____"What must I do to get him? To HAVE him...?" asked Sera. Anger edged in her voice, 

slightly slanting her eyebrows. She felt angry enough to kill and destroy something, her feelings

barely tempered by etiquette.

...

2

...

_____It was very quiet here in the night club, since it was afternoon. Plain florescent lighting

illuminated most of the place--because there was just one set of windows, way over at one 

end of the place. Things looked sharper and more bold in the white lighting. The big 

rectangular dance floor looked so plain and empty as no one danced on it now. This place felt 

sedate and quiet, though there were some people seated at the tables--over at one end of this 

theater of a room. 

_____The thirteen people here were not happy. Most people had plain and sad looks on their 

faces, the kind of expressions worn in times of loss and darkness. Everyone had drinks in front 

of themselves, though few people drank right now. Some of the tables had low conversations 

in serious tones. It was as if the quietness--the silence--was something precious they did not 

want to disturb.

_____Today, they were mourning the loss of Joel. When he didn't show up at his usual clubbing 

spots, some people worried. He didn't appear at the usual local eateries; that meant that he wasn't

eating. And he was not at his second-floor apartment. The confirmation of his death came to the

Parasol Club came in the morning, when some of them were at computer labs--monitoring Network

text messages. There would be no laughter and happiness here for now. No music played here. 

Laughter and smiles were nowhere to be found. No, this was a different kind of social gathering. 

They were all here for mutual comfort in their grief. 

_____Lissette was here: She simply had to be. Sitting at one of the tables near the dance table, 

she sat with her hands in her lap. Everyone else was told to dress as they do on typical days, but 

she was dressed somewhat more formally: a black pleated skirt with white stockings, a white 

long-sleeved blouse. Simple black shoes. Her silken dark hair was held back with a white ribbon, 

a contrast to her milk-toned skin. She was a girl in black and white. 

_____Looking across the table, her dark eyes looked over at Kela... Poor girl, she was crying. 

Gasping sobs escaped her throat, shaking her body. She had been weeping off and on for the past 

hour, her gold-colored eyes dripping drops of sadness. Hugging herself, she sat pulled back a little 

the table--to keep her tears from wetting the tablecloth. All of the sadness within was an unquenchable 

pain that shook her.

_____In contrast, Jake was almost like a statue. He sat with hunched shoulders, his rumpled tee 

shirt looking more loose and floppy than usual on his thin self. His tousled blond hair looked 

wayward and lost, matching the expression on his face. There were no words from him: He 

was just...here.

_____Then Lissette looked over at Sam. His everyday outfit of dark, pin-striped suit was 

appropriate. As he was chubby and somewhat heavyset, a middle-aged man, his jowly face seemed

to sag. His big hands were wrapped around a tall, tan-colored drink atop the table. Half

of it was gone. Lissette could not read minds, but she suspected that Sam's thoughts were on all 

the things leading up to today--and if things could have been different.

_____Some of those text messages were regarding an executed "cyber-criminal," his head recently 

turned in. That was it: just his head. It was JOEL'S head. Lissette's hands clenched into fist, her body 

tensing as her mind went over the more gruesome details. 

_____The Deckmen had put Joel's brain through some kind of information extraction machine. It was

a machine that systematically chopped up brains and read the resulting mess like computer information

storage media. Oh yes, Sera knew exactly how they had taken information from a human brain, even one 

dead for several hours. The Network had used the same kind of technology used to replace the brains of 

adult Zalem citizens: taking human brains and transferring the information within into computer chips. 

_____Except, the information Joel's dead brain wasn't transferred to such a chip. It could not have

been: His brain was dead for hours by the time it had been put through that damned process. 

Thank goodness; Lissette couldn't bear the thought of a cyber-copy of Joel's mind being locked up

within the vast depths of some computer machinery up in Zalem. 

_____How Lissette knew about this was part of her secret. It was part of what she was. She 

knew all about what the ruling master computer in Zalem did to human brains. In fact, Lissette 

knew the brain-to-chip conversion process so well that she could do the process herself if she had

the right equipment. To think, the original purpose of her existence was to serve the master 

computer... Kela sobbed.

_____"I'm sorry. I have to say something," said Lissette to her friends at the table. Some heads 

turned to look in her direction. As she stepped over to the dance floor, shoe heels clicking, more 

people turned to look. For some seconds, some of them must have thought she was going to dance 

or something. No way was she going to dance. Instead, she was going to do something 

entirely different. She waited until most of the Parasol Club members were looking in this direction. 

_____"Listen to me, everyone... I an not the best speech-maker. But I am the president of the

Parasol Club. So it is my responsibility to say things that have to be said. I have to say this. I just

can't hold it in anymore. Everyone has to hear this.

_____"Joel...did not die for nothing. He died because he was one of us, doing what we do to keep

this sector disconnected from Zalem's control!" Her voice became angry, fiery. "That damned 

oversized computer within the floating city, it has tyrannized people for too many centuries. 

CENTURIES, do you hear? For those of you with the club early on, you know that Joel was there 

when we just got started. When we first partnered with the Feng-Long society and liberated this 

sector. He was a steady presence among us. 

_____"Now he is gone. There is one less computer hacker around to keep the Network out and

away. We are weakened as a result. The Parasol Club is short one member.

_____"But GUESS WHAT! Our enemy, that damned computer originally identified as 'Melchezedek'

is also weaker these days. We work with recycled computer parts, and we know that all computers...

all MACHINES....die. Yes, the Network and the master computer behind it form a machine that 

is dying. We do not know when it will finally die, but we know for certain that the MONSTER 

will die!

_____"Maybe we are bringing about the death of the monster-computer up in Zalem. I hope we 

are!" Lissette lowered bowed her head and lowered her voice. "Though there are transmissions by 

the Network about plans to get us, though we KNOW the Network is planning something big, we also

know that the Network's days of life will soon be over! And maybe our constant hacking is doing it! 

Joel died during a time in his life when he was attacking the Network. He may be dead, but his 

enemy--our enemy--will be dead too."

_____She looked around. Some of them looked at the tabletops or looked at drinks, but they all

heard. They believed it. They all knew it. This was going to be the last of the centuries-long age

in which a machine oversaw the cities of the world. Though Joel would not be, they were going to

be here when the floating city in the sky fell from power--it's machines dead and silent. 

...

_____The social gathering had lasted until very late in the afternoon. As the Parasol Club had 

rented that club for the rest of the day, some of the members decided they were going to have an 

early dinner there. Everyone else decided to leave and go back to the rest of their daily routine,

getting back to the computer labs beneath the city streets and hacking away at the Network. There

would be some especially malicious computer viruses breaking down parts of the Network today...

_____Lissette decided to go practice a bit more of her kickboxing. It wasn't that she really needed

the practice; she just needed to go. It would be time to herself--letting out some of the pain she

felt. No tears had come from her eyes, but something had to come from her. Something had to

come from the negative emotions.

_____So she changed into white tank-top and shorts, put on sneakers, and got her purse. 

Before heading over to the gym, she had dropped by a Feng-Long money-house--where about 

half of her credit-chips were safely held. (The damned Network wouldn't have cared to give

people a convenience like that...) Then she took a taxi cab over to her final destination for the 

day. She paid the driver and walked up to the store-front entrance. Eyes turned to look. 

_____In the gym's foyer, the owner's assistant was behind the desk--reading some newsprint. He 

was generally known as "Coach": a pot-bellied fleshie whose arms and left eye were electromechanical. 

Why he didn't become a full cyborg, no one was really sure. It probably had something to do 

with his former job of coaching arena cyborgs and how he still tended to wear athletic clothes and

arena team jackets. He was retired, but people still called him that--"Coach."

_____Lissette stood straight and formally, feet together and left hand on her purse. "Good 

afternoon, Coach," she said. He looked up from his sports news prints and smiled: Lissette was 

a regular here, and he was glad she came by. "I'd like to pay for some damages to punching bags, 

in advance." 

_____"Huh? Whaddaya mean...?" he said at first. A few seconds passed. "Oh-h-h! I gotcha." It

looked as if Sera was going to take out some anger on some equipment today.

...

_____Some time later, with the afternoon sun going down on the city, the after-work regulars here

paused in their workouts. They were looking at the damage being rendered by the cute, long-haired 

girl--over in the space by the boxing ring. Lissette usually didn't come here so late in the day, and so 

they did not know her. All they knew that the fleshie girl was doing about as much damage to punching 

bags as a cyborg. Some of them thought she was some kind of mutant. She didn't look it, though: that

shorts-and-bare midriff outfit of hers showed quite a lot, and she looked normal. Oh yes, sweetly

normal.

_____THUMP! THUMP-P-P! She kicked with her left leg, then her right leg, making that punching

bag ROCK. The wire-reinforced kevlar bag was already tearing around the seams. She seemed

to be just softening it up. Th-thump! A left-right punching combination made the cylindrical bag 

start to spin before she KICKED it again. 

_____One curious male cyborg was sitting at a coordination-improvement machine. That machine 

looked like a bench-press, but more complicated: designed to test the strength output of a cyborg's 

arms. Curious about the girl, he leaned over to another and asked something. "Hey, who's the 

chick? She some kind of partner to the enforcers?"

_____The average-looking cyborg nearby shook his head. "No, I really don't think so. There are 

no human--or 'fleshie'--enforcers. Some may be bounty hunters outside of this sector, but we're not 

that desperate for enforcement of the laws." From over here, he leaned a little forward to get a slightly 

better look at Lissette. A bystander would have thought that he was just checking her out physically. 

"Hmm... It takes a pretty strong-looking fleshie to fight like that. She has a good-looking body, 

but she doesn't have the muscle mass for that kind of performance."

_____"Yeah, I'd agree with you--about the muscles...and her good-looking body," he said, smirking.

"But how's she do it? I mean, if she's not a mutie and she's not a cyborg, then how the fuck can

she wreck about three good punching bags without some kind of powered weapon? Without

ANY weapon?"

_____The average-looking cyborg put on a frown, thinking on it. "Hmmph... No, it can't be. No

way that could be true." He stared at Lissette, kicking away at that poor punching bag. She 

seemed to be destroying the thing with deliberate slowness; her kicks and quick punches looked

controlled enough to prolong the suffering of the bag. It couldn't be. The level of knowledge

simply didn't exist anymore for THAT sort of idea. "Couldn't be..." said the average-looking cyborg

aloud.

_____Ka-THUMP! Lissette landed punch-and-kick combination on the bag. Some more wire

seams came loose along the bottom. Now, a person could see the thick plastic inner-bag that held

in the balled-up chains inside the bag. Punching bags for fleshies were filled with sand; punching 

bags for cyborgs were filled with balled-up steel chains.

_____"What couldn't be?" asked the curious cyborg. "Hey guy, talk to me. What're you thinking?

Think you've got an idea how the Hell a fleshie babe like that can kick ass without looking like a 

male bodybuilder?"

_____"I have an idea, but it's too impossible for me to believe right now," answered the average-

looking cyborg. He smiled. "Besides, if I don't believe it, you probably wouldn't believe me if I

told you."

_____"Yeah, you're probably right," agreed the curious cyborg. "I'll admit it: There are a lot of

things I wouldn't believe. Like that stuff in the newsprint about strange people from outer-space 

and Zalem burning all full of riots these days. I just like to believe what's safe and real." 

_____Thud-THUMP! Her fists seemed to have especially hard knuckles. Her punches were 

now leaving fist-sized indentations in the kevlar punching bag. Now, a person could hear the 

slight clinking made by the chains in the thing. The bag would probably bust open soon. And

the way she kept up those attacks, she could probably finish off the bag with one more hit.

_____"'Real,' indeed..." mumbled the average-looking cyborg in response to what the curious

cyborg last said as they both continued to eye Lissette. Then he looked at what other cyborgs 

were doing here. From the looks of things, he and this guy here were not the only ones distracted 

from their workouts. They found the girl interesting--even entertaining.

_____People were watching. A trio over at the left side of the gym was crouching around a low 

stool, a pile of credit-chips atop the stool. Apparently, they were betting on the girl's performance. 

They were probably betting on how many bags would be destroyed before a certain time. Closer

to here, to the right, two identical female cyborgs stood with silvery arms crossed. Was it jealousy

or envy on their faces? 

_____Anyway, a swift series of left-and-right kicks from the girl had finally ruined the bag. All

the balled-up chains came tumbling out of the bottom like the innards of a large, artificial worm.

She got a stool, climbed up it to unhook the bag, and climbed down. Then she tossed the ruined 

bag and the chains were put with the rest--the remains of two other punching bags. That made for 

three.

...

3.

...

_____Another day had come to pass. Sunset came and passed in the city. It was a deep and 

reddish sunset that lasted for a while, before the sky faded into dark. One good thing about the 

air pollution: all the particulates and discoloring chemicals made sunsets longer and more dramatic. 

But most people couldn't get a good view of the setting sun from the ground anyway: too many 

buildings. 

_____ Ah well, who gave a fuck? It was night-time now, another day of work done. Come the 

end of the week, there'd be a little more money to bring home. Right now was the time to kick 

back and relax--indoors or outdoors--for a few hours before going to bed. Some people were 

walking the sidewalks and taking cabs out to the big arena to watch some fights. 

_____That, and there were plenty of people outside--sitting in alleys and in vacant lots. Some 

old chairs and broken appliances were used for seats. Some people gathered around television 

sets they'd set up--with taped-up electrical cords stretching into windows and hand-made metal 

antennas to catch old broadcasts from the arenas. If not televisions, there were always those 

good plastic radios sold near the downtown area. Get some beer and some friends, and a person 

could have a pretty good time.

_____Carlos was having a pretty good time here-- in this vacant lot. A few televisions and 

radios chattering in the background, and some local street lights provided some dim illumination. 

He worked hard in the factories, but being with friends made life worth living. He was a cyborg 

like most all of his friends. A few bottles of beer next to him, he was sitting with Marlene and Lars:

both of them working cyborgs as well. They all wore rugged work jeans and tee shirts made of 

thick cloth. They weren't talking about the usual shit tonight. Tonight, they were talking about 

some good rumors.

_____Lars had a rugged sort of face, short-cut straight blond hair atop his head. His metal physique

was above average mass. His body had to be pretty well built and strong because he was a truck 

loader. If a person didn't know him as a friend, one would be offended at the "mean" way he spoke:

curt and stiff. "It is hard for me to believe, Carlos," said Lars in that rigid voice of his. "I think it is 

a lie," he said. "Would the Network ever give up?"

_____"Lars, I've gotta stick with what Carlos is sayin'," said Marlene, a pretty sort of cyborg 

woman of slight build. She worked in textile manufacturing. It didn't pay much, but she didn't 

live alone; she lived with three other roommates who worked at the same building. "We all need 

some kinda hope for the future, ya know? An' just thinkin' about the Network being destroyed

some day is good."

_____"So long as there is food and other people, I could not care," answered Lars. "The Network

runs the Factory system in other sectors. It makes life hard, but people still live." He shrugged, 

making for slight clinking sounds from his big shoulder-joints. "The future will take care of itself. 

It does not matter if people are happy or sad. It does not matter if the Network makes people sad."

_____"Ah no, man! Don't think that way! The Network's going down! The future will be really

happy!" went Carlos. He reached into his right jeans pocket, took out a folded and wrinkled up 

scrap of newsprint. Unfolding it, he tilted it as so he could better see the text. "See? It says so 

right here. Zalem is having 'technical difficulties.'" 

_____He handed the text over to Lars. Like Carlos, Lars and Marlene were both surprisingly good 

at reading. Being a cyborg meant living a hundred years or so without really losing mental 

capabilities: plenty of time to pick up a few skills.

_____Lars took up the scrap from Carlos and perused it. "Hmm... This was written by Joel Cruz.

He is a reliable source of information." He spent a minute reading the first paragraph in the light of 

the street lamp back out by the road. "If he wrote this... WHAT!"

_____A sound in the night air surprised and angered him. CLANK-K! "Aa-a-agh!" After the impact,

the injured cyborg in the distance YELLED,--echoing against the walls of nearby buildings. It was 

the sound of a cyborg being hit HARD, and the following scream meant that whoever was hit was 

in a lot of pain. The scream came again before another HIT silenced him.

_____Carlos, Marlene and Lars all turned to look. The commotion was coming from the edge of

this lot, out by a corner of the sidewalk over there. There was one very, very big cyborg--a real

monster with a head that looked outrageously little atop its massive metal body. In the low lighting

of the electric street lamps, the thing looked sinister. It was surrounded by about seven people

with steel pipes and balled metal fists.

_____"SHUT UP, YOU! Criminals! You're all CRIMINALS!" came a vicious new voice from the 

same direction. "Who do YOU think YOU are? Trying to stop ME? You bastards in this sector 

are all gonna be KILLED!" To emphasize his point, he HIT another one of the shorter cyborgs--

knocking the poor guy down and making him drop his pipe. 

_____Carlos and his friends were just workers. They didn't especially like the idea of getting up

to confront that thing. One thing they could do was RUN for it. But fights were not odd, even 

if they were rare. A person just had to have sense enough to stay out of things.

_____But that cyborg over there must be one of those bounty hunters. They came in from time

to time, prospecting potential bounties that really didn't exist around here. This one seemed 

Hell-bent on raising some chaos and maybe taking some heads. For now, though, he seemed to

be just satisfied to knock some locals around. 

_____CLINK! One of the shorter cyborgs swung a metal pipe at the bounty hunter's left arm. 

It was a pretty good hit; the big cyborg staggered. But that was it. There was no significant 

damage. And the big jerk grinned... 

_____WHAM! Someone else was knocked away, making him land in the street. He managed 

to stand up, though shakily, and he staggered over to the other struck cyborg. His body must 

have been badly damaged, because he was now running away--clutching his metal chest. The 

chest was where one's artificial organs lie. If that was too damaged, then a cyborg was as good 

as dead.

_____The six that remained looked shaky themselves. But they stood their ground, crouching 

and brandishing those metal pipes they had gotten from somewhere around here. This was 

THEIR sector! And until some enforcers could get over here, they were not going to let some 

crazy bounty hunter come here and knock them around!

_____"You criminal jerks are REALLY getting on me!" growled the gigantic bounty hunter. He 

tilted back his head and let out an absolutely disgusting and savage ROAR. It was deep and loud, 

as if he had a part of Hell in his chest and opening his mouth let the sound out. When he stopped, 

his eyes no longer looked sane--glinting madly in the dim and indirect lighting of the street lamps.

They were mad little eyes in a small head, a small head atop a huge body. The bounty hunter had,

in that moment, become a real monster.

_____Swish-GRIP! His huge left metal arm flashed out, and the gigantic claw-like hand closed 

over the head of one unlucky cyborg. The unlucky victim squirmed and struggled, his head being 

all squeezed up. His struggles became more frantic as the grip increased...then stopped. Blood

and clear fluid leaking from his ears and nose. 

_____The others tried swinging those rusty steel pipes and what-not, trying to make that cyborg

let him go. All of the clinking and clanking sounds made a lot of noise. Yet it did not seem to have

any kind of effect on the big metal beast with the small head. He--now an "it"--stood there gripping 

the victim's body by the head. 

_____There was a sudden sound of ripping air when he swung the body. No one saw any warning,

just a very sudden movement. Three of the cyborgs with pipes were knocked away, while the

now-headless body went flopping along the dark night street--leaving a dark wet trail of blood 

and hydraulic fluid as it went.

_____No sooner had that happened that the metal beast took hold of someone else, gripping with

both hands. A wrenching sound of crunching metal, a stifled gasp, and the cyborg was torn apart 

at the waist. Both halves squirmed and poured wetness. The metal beast released the lower half

of the body and began SLAMMING and SLAMMING the upper half into the concrete until the head 

and face was a mess. He then dropped the ruined body-half. 

_____A CRACK of lightning exploded from somewhere, making the metal beast stagger. What was

THIS! Gray smoke began fluffing from a new, coin-sized hole in its chest. This confused the 

monstrosity for a little while: Where did this hole come from? 

_____Then came that same CRACK sound again, making

for the same result: another hole in the chest, venting gray smoke. In an almost comic moment, the

metal monster's small head whipped left and right as it looked around for where these sounds and 

attacks were coming from. Then it saw four figures walking through pools of lamplight, coming 

in this direction.

_____"We apologize for the lateness, folks!" shouted the first enforcer--a dark-haired male sort in 

a typical suit. He had a massive, blocky kind of gun in his right steel hand. It was so big that the 

thing must have weighed as much as a head-sized chunk of iron. A fleshie would have needed a 

small motorized winch to raise that thing up. 

_____In fact, all three of his fellow darkly dressed enforcers had the same sort of gun, even the female 

in formal jacket and pleated skirt. They were walking as if they had the entire night to do this thing. 

With the guns they had, they were simply going to win. The monster would have no chance at all...

_____The monstrosity dropped its gory load. Its claw-like machine-hands hung loose, dripping

fluid and blood. It was hard to tell in the indirect street lighting, but the expression on the monster's 

face looked like fear. It knew what guns were. 

_____Coming within about twelve steps of the huge thing, they raised their guns. CRACK! Another

shot and flash of light, and the machine-beast was holed with sparks coming out the back. Then 

came an entire storm of thunderous shots. The sounds of blasting and cracking was all mixed up

with the flashing and echoes, extreme blasts of light and sound everywhere! It was a chaotic

mess of blasting and cracking and flashes of light. Then it all stopped.

_____The enforcers lowered their guns, the tips of the barrels now glowing red. They then 

reached into their jacket pockets for more ammunition. These were thick and shiny bullets that 

were individually loaded into the bottoms of the guns. While the small-headed, huge-bodied 

bounty hunter stood there, big chest all full of holes and bullets, the enforcers reloaded. 

_____"Aren't you dead yet?" asked the female enforcer. "These ceramic rounds are expensive,

and I don't feel like getting more. Do I actually have to climb up and blow your head off?" She

took a few steps closer to the big thing.

_____The monster's head tilted downward. Its face contained an entire world of pain and

suffering, a twisted expression of sadness and torture. "Nng... Guh... Guh..." it blubbered. 

Blood followed, flowing from the mouth. "Gally..." Its head tilted up and looked to the dark sky

above the city. Then...it...began...to...fall...forward...WHAM-M-M!

_____Whoa! All the enforcers had to hop aside as the huge thing HIT the sidewalk. This big 

monster was not moving anymore, and it would never move again. Blood coated its back where

the ceramic bullets had exited, lingering smoke beginning to fade. The thing was now just a piece

of junk. 

_____People in the nearby vacant lot wandered close, trying to get a better look. But they didn't

come too close. The crowd didn't want the enforcers to think they were attacking! Some leaned

forward, and a few others moved side to side to see around other people. Yes, the thing was dead.

...

_____When the small crowd began to cheer, the enforcers began to walk away-- walking 

with the barrels of their weapons still hot. "We'll have to leave a memo with the maintenance

department," said one of the enforcers. "That big fucker is going to be a LOT of scrap metal..." He 

paused. "Hmmph. Too bad about those poor broken-up guys back there. Guess there aren't 

enough of us around to keep everyone safe all the time."

_____"But we DID stop that huge bastard," said the female enforcer. She jerked a thumb back

in the general direction of the ruined bounty monster and the small crowd. "Stopped it with 

GUNS! When it comes to the choice between fists, blades or bullets, guess which one wins?"

_____This group stepped up to the intersection. This was where they had parked their ride: a 

sleek black car. It was nothing fancy, just a four-seater they used to get around. They opened

up car doors and climbed on in--the brown-haired enforcer sitting in the driver's seat. He set his 

gun in a special holder between the front seats before starting the engine.

_____"Funny that guy should mention her," said another one of the enforcers. "I think Gally was 

a Motorball player a really long time ago or something... I wonder what happened to her. Maybe 

she's still alive somewhere."

_____"I'm not sure..." went the female bounty hunter as this car began to move through the city

streets. "I don't always follow print stories about athletes, but I think I read something about her

getting up to Zalem with a crackpot scientist."

_____"Zalem? HA!" said the dark-haired enforcer sitting in the front passenger seat. "With all

the crazy stuff happening up there now, I've heard that dead bodies are just being TOSSED out

by the dozens every week! I'm talking about fleshie bodies. Dead citizens of Zalem, all beaten up

and mutilated by whatever's going on. There are probably so many people dying up there now

that their normal body disposal processes must be overloaded. You couldn't PAY me to go up 

there now!"

_____"They're throwing BODIES out of Zalem? EWW-W-W!" went the female enforcer.

"Could you just imagine the MESS in the Scrapyard zone? The fleshies must go SPLAT when 

they hit the mountains of junk or something."

_____"It sounds to me like they should get random bounty hunters up there...instead of trying to 

invade our sector," said the cyborg driving this car. "If that great big computer can't keep the people

under control, then something must be really wrong."

...

4.

...

_____Sera stood at the front of the brightly lit, hard-floored room. Her metal-gray body and long 

red head of hair was a contrast to the white wall behind her. Looking from person to person, she 

saw that everyone was looking at her. There were eighteen enforcers in this room. All of them 

were seated in plastic seats, looking at her--and listening. She was the one that was supposed to 

talk. This was a very odd situation for the young cyborg; she had no public speaking experience. 

_____Clasping her hands together, she bowed her head--her long red hair cascading to the sides. 

She had to think... Had to think... Her head tilted back up, and she glanced to the back of the 

room--before starting to speak. She knew what she would say now. The best way to put on a decent 

speech was to be honest.

_____"Just in case some of you have not met me before, let me introduce myself. My name is Sera.

That's it. Just Sera. No family name. I'm not trying to be fancy or smart or anything like that... It's just

that I had a family. A full and loving family, a long time ago. But..." Her eyes saddened. "Then, those

I loved started being killed. 

_____"My parents... They died during that really crazy time when all the bounty hunters were being

kicked out. You know, when the Network machines were being destroyed. There was all of this

craziness and violence then... So many people were going nuts. My parents had to go out every day to

look for food to feed me, my little sister, and little brother... We were just so hungry, and most all of the 

places to buy or get food were closed because of the riots. Lots of people were killed.

_____"A friend of the family told me the bad news. She brought me to them, showed me their bodies. 

Their blood... I'll never forget the looks on their faces." Sera's voice seemed to crack, and her eyes tilted 

downward. 

_____She took in a shuddering breath, continued. "So it was just me, my brother, and my sister.

There were no other relatives. The friend gave me some money, but she was having problems 

herself. I had to find a job that would take teenagers. It had to be a good job that paid a lot 

of money. So I..." She paused, looking around. "After the riots stopped and Feng-Long took

control, I needed money fast. Since I wasn't a cyborg, I couldn't work in factories. And I

wasn't good at using computers or anything. So I... I began prostituting myself--having sex 

for money. It was hard at first. But when lots of customers started talking about how good I

was, I started making a lot more cash. 

_____"Things were getting good for me and what was left of my family. About that friend of the 

family, I was able to hire her for a nanny to look after my little brother and sister while I worked nights. 

We would cry sometimes when we remembered our parents... But things were getting better! Really 

good! I was making a lot of money, so I was able to pay for a good place for us to stay. And we never 

had to worry about money for food or good clothes. We were even able to buy some nice things to 

enjoy. Everything was getting better until those BASTARDS CAME!"

_____When Sera shouted those words, some members of the crowd tilted their heads to the side,

as if they were vaguely confused. Such anger! Yet they kept their composure--not flinching at the 

loudness. 

_____That was when someone walked into the room. No one else really noticed him, but there he

was. He simply stood at the back of the room, looking. The young female cyborg continued her 

impromptu speech, trying to ignore his presence. Thinking, WHAT WAS HE DOING HERE! Who 

let him in! Was this some kind of test of her nerve! 

_____"Those three fuckers killed what was left of my family. They killed my little sister and brother.

They killed the nanny. When I came to my apartment and saw what they did, they tried to kill me

too. I remember... Remember being hit until I almost bled to death. Then they beat me until bones 

were broken. I should have died, but didn't. 

_____"So I took my money cache and left the apartment. A really strange fire burned up the place

after I left. The bodies were burned up too. Completely burned to ash. Then the fire stopped.

_____"I made it to a clinic, where I became a cyborg. I promised myself that I would, one day, be

strong enough to find and KILL those three evil jerks. And I did become strong. I killed one of 

them, but the second one died on his own. Hit by a truck."

_____That newcomer, at the back of the room, was still here. He was unnoticed by the enforcers,

who were all looking at and listening to Sera. That was good, since all of the enforcers would have 

tried to rush and grab him if they would have seen him. Sera continued her speech...

_____"The third one, Carbon, is still alive. A high-ranking Society executive, Miss Patsun, has him. 

She had his arms and legs chopped off so he won't go anywhere. She promised to give him to me when

I have proven myself... So now I'm supposed to be one of her best enforcers to prove how better 

and stronger I am." Sera then raised her arms. "So here I am! With a new body and a little training 

from that hacker-girl Lissette." Lowering her arms, she also lowered her voice. "I'm here to not just

be one of the enforcers, I'm supposed to be one of the best. Miss Patsun herself tells me what to do

now, like a kind of personal assistant. And...yeah. That's about all I have to say. Thanks."

_____All of the enforcers here stood up. This was when they would question her about her will to joining

their organization. One of them, that one standing in the center of the front row, spoke up. "So it's simple 

revenge that's putting you up to this, eh? What about the pay you will get, or the pride of keeping this 

\sector free of Network control?"

_____Sera answered. "It's really not about the money. I just want to make things right again. And the 

only DAMNED way I can do that is with revenge. It's right for wrong. It's balance, you know?"

_____At the back of the room, the visitor swayed slightly side-to-side. It was a playful gesture; he was

pretending to be some kind of beatnik doll. It was an unusual action. The visitor was unusual. But Sera's 

attention was on the enforcer who asked her questions now. 

_____"And then what?" asked the same enforcer in the front row. "Revenge is all fine and good. In 

fact, we encourage people setting things right whenever we can't. Yet if that is the sole purpose of 

your continued existence, then..." 

_____Sera interrupted him. "I'll think of something, but that doesn't concern me until later," she said. 

"Right now, I'm supposed to help you guys. Then I can have my revenge." Her eyes took on a 

strange look. "I'll kill Carbon really slowly, making him think about what he did. He's going to 

cry and scream and really-really-really wish he was dead. But he won't be. Uh-huh, he's gonna 

scream for a long time until I shut him up."

_____That visitor at the back of the room was the Janitor, having gone unnoticed by the 

enforcers here all of this time. He pivoted on his left foot, walked towards the door out. But 

instead of reaching the doorknob, he vanished--a breeze marking his exit. 

...

_____It was getting late into the night, nearing midnight. While all of the other hackers were 

sleeping off their hangovers and their misery, Lissette was in one of the underground computer labs. 

The bright white florescent lighting here made everything seem sharper and brighter--illuminating 

everything here and eliminating most all shadows. The problem was, even the slightest dust buildup 

on the computers here was brightly revealed--which was why the Parasol Club members dusted and

maintained this place so often.

_____And, being down here was deceptive. There were no windows--of course. A person could

not see the change from day to night. Instead, the constant indoor brightness could play with 

a person's sense of time. Being here could also deceive a person about the way things were 

upside and outside: The air below ground was always cool and pleasant, while the air up on the

surface was always changing. 

_____Steadily working, undistracted, she continued tapping away at the computer workstation. 

Hmmph! Didn't that big stupid machine up in Zalem ever give up? Everybody knew that the thing,

Melchezedek, was almost toast! No machine lasts forever!

_____Right now, this computer lab's main machine, the server, had blocked the Network's attempt to 

identify it. The Network was STILL trying the same stupid tactics to retake control over this sector--

STILL trying to contact the (destroyed) Deckmen and (dismantled) bounty posts. 

_____How foolish, she thought--sighing as she typed in the computer commands to diagnose

the Network-blocking software. The computer's screen seemed to pause while it performed

the commands Lissette had typed in. As usual there were no problems. The hackers' computer

servers and workstations still kept the Network disconnected and... WHAT!

_____Wink-flicker! Lissette saw her computer's display blink. She leaned forward in her

seat. Before doing anything, she had to identify the problem. It didn't LOOK like a typical

hacking attempt at this machine. The first thing a person ought to do if a machine is being 

hacked is to turn it off. But this machine could always be repaired. It was more important to

see what was happening first.

_____Some words came to the flickering, malfunctioning screen. They were hard to see at

first as the screen showed slanting streaks and bright flashes. Luckily, she could read really fast.

The words on the malfunctioning computer's screen said something like this: 

_____CINNAMON...blows along the third street. Cinnamon...blows... (FLICKER!) Blows 

along the (BLINK-FLICKER!). . . Third Street. The (FLICKER-FLICKER!)... third...street 

in mind (Blink-BLINK!).

_____"What the HELL is that supposed to mean?" she asked aloud. Then the computer lab's

lights winked a few times. The computer screen became worse, still showing that bizarre message. 

"Cinnamon...blows along the third street." That was supposed to mean something, but Lissette 

couldn't quite... AH-HA! Then she knew!

_____There was a street nearby named Troisieme--the French word for "third." It was six 

blocks over, close to the sector border. Maybe if Lissette went there, she would find out who

was screwing with her computers. So she turned off the computer monitor, leaving the processors

running to keep that connection with the supposed interfering hacker. She went to the door and 

climbed the ladder to the surface.

...

_____"Oh, yes-s-s..." said the female cyborg--a thin, metal-bodied bounty hunter. "You're a 

pretty one. Maybe we'll just cash in your brain and keep the rest of you for ourselves. Your 

body will make a great trophy!" She reached out an armored hand and put it under the naked 

young girl's chin. "Why don't you open your eyes, hmm? Afraid I'll pluck them out?"

_____The girl's clothes had been ripped away and left in a tattered pile nearby. She was being 

held to an alley wall by the strong hands of two other bounty hunters--both males. Metal hands

pressed her arms and thighs, bruising. Also nearby was a headless dead body--the cause of her 

being trapped here. All that she did was step into the alley when she heard someone scream in 

pain. Her curiosity and sympathy had brought her here. 

_____Now she thought she was going to die in a painful, frightful manner. Her eyes clenched, 

her cheeks were wet with tears--glinting in the dim alleyway light. Her purple hair was in disarray, 

a reflection of her emotional state right now. She gasped and sobbed, expecting to be killed--or 

worse. There was no one here to help her, because it was so late at night. Now these scary people

were going to do whatever they wanted to her. And because she was beautiful, they were especially 

anxious to do something obscene.

_____Swish...WHACK! The female bounty hunter's head was knocked sideways...by a 

well-tossed BRICK! She blinked twice, blood pouring from her ears and nose, before falling 

to the dark grimy asphalt of the alleyway. Then the two other bounty hunters looked around, 

distracted and confused. What the heck was THAT?

_____They looked to the right, to the alleyway entrance. It was hard to see, since there was

just one dim light in this alley. Then, there was a white-clothed BLUR with trailing black hair, 

bringing the sound of running feet. 

_____The blur ran up behind them. THWACK! One of the cyborgs loosened his grip on the girl. 

He had no choice: His metal neck was broken. He dropped to the hard alley ground. Sparks 

and blood jetted from his broken neck machinery.

_____With the last cyborg stared in awe, the dark-haired girl leapt and kicked. Suddenly, 

his metal-skulled head made a cracking sound when it hit the alley wall. And the headless body

collapsed, shuddering and twitching. 

_____With the three cyborgs broken and dead, there was now no one to hurt the victim. "LISSETTE!" 

screamed the girl--Kela--opening wide her gold-colored eyes. She wrapped her lithe arms around her 

rescuer, hugging and gripping. "THEY WERE GOING TO... GOING TO...!" The rest of her words 

were lost in gasps and sobs.

_____Lissette gently put her hands onto Kela's scraped, quivering back. "Shh-h-h... It's over. They're 

dead." She then stroked Kela's back to help calm her. "Let's go over to the nearest computer lab. We 

can use the side-room to get you cleaned up and give you some new clothes."

_____As Lissette helped Sera out of the alley, she thought about the oddness of this situation. 

Apparently, whoever had sent that mysterious message had known that something bad was happening. 

Someone was helping the Parasol Club and had looked over them. Were it not for that strange phrase 

on the computer screen, Kela would have been killed. 


	8. Chapter 8: Water Flows Downhill

The Cinnamon Horizon

by Elliot Bowers

Chapter 8: Water Flows Downhill

...

_____It was late morning, almost the afternoon. That strange male cyborg was driving back

to this sector of town. Unlike most all of the other bounty hunters, he wasn't going in wearing

a disguise. He still dressed in his typical outfit of black leather jacket, white shirt and blue 

jeans. Black boots were on his feet. Other than the exposed metal hands, one couldn't tell 

he was metal-bodied. 

_____Yes, it was the Dark Stranger yet again, driving that strange dark vehicle. The engine 

of his car hummed and thrummed he speeded along the cracked road. He had three passengers 

with him: a sassy, pink-bodied female cyborg, two big gray male cyborgs in the back. While 

Mai--the pink-bodied one--wore a minimum of clothing on her sleek metal physique, the two 

big males in the back wore formal black suits with beige trenchcoats and hats to match.

_____Mai popped some sweet-flavored gum into her mouth and began chewing. "Hey, Mr. 

Dark!" she shouted above the engine roar. "Like, ARE WE THERE YET? HUH!" She saw 

Mr. Dark give her a glance before his eyes returned to the city road ahead--buildings at the 

sides. "This is, like, getting SO-O-O boring! And the scenery is really crummy! All these

broken down buildings. I'm getting depressed."

_____The Dark Stranger shook his head. "We are not there yet, but we'll be there quite soon!"

he said. Then he flinched, as if something unseen had struck him in the head. But he kept on 

driving. He just had the oddest thought about somewhere else...

…

...

______It was that Other Place again. The light here was still so faint, barely here at all. It

was almost light enough to see the floor, and the people around here seemed to be shades 

with shape. And that old wind continued blowing on through here, howling and whistling.

_____Then came the spotlight! It lanced the darkness with white brightness, illuminating a 

table and the being sitting there! The brightness shone down on the Dream Woman, sitting 

behind the round wooden table. Though the pale-haired young female usually wore a white 

gown, her gown was now slightly pinkish in tone. It looked dyed, but not with any usual 

dye.

_____With a wave of an arm, she made three different titanium bowls appear on the brown 

table--bowls full of what looked like cinnamon oatmeal. "Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha...!" she laughed. 

And then, the three bowls were empty. The Janitor stepped out of the darkness.

...

_____Mai gave him a look. "What's wrong, Mr. Dark?" she asked. THUMP! "Oh!" she 

exclaimed. This car had hit something, making it jump... The Dark Stranger wrestled with

the steering wheel, slammed the brakes. All four tires began to SCR-E-E-ECH! 

_____Gripping the steering wheel in his metal hands, skillfully manipulating the brakes, the Dark

Stranger managed to keep this car from flipping over or slamming into the buildings at the 

sides of this road. The car eventually came to a screeching stop, in a position totally backward.

Now the vehicle was pointing the exact opposite direction of where it was going, with a long 

quadruple set of black screech marks along the road. 

_____And those marks went right over the bodies in the road. "Cool!" cheered Mai, bouncing 

up and down in the car seat. "We hit some people!" A big smile on her face, her happy breath 

smelled of candy as she turned to look at the Dark Stranger. "Let's all get out and see the dead 

stiffs! Maybe their heads are WORTH something, huh?"

_____Though Mai was cheerful and bouncy, the Dark Stranger had a concerned look on his

face. Something was very wrong. Though no one else seemed to hear it, he heard the sound 

of a push-broom sweeping somewhere nearby. "Mai, let us be quite careful when approaching 

those lying still in the road..." 

_____He opened his car door and got out, standing on the road. "Everyone stay in the car. 

You may not like what there is to see." That said, he walked back towards where the bodies 

lie: all sprawled out and run-over.

_____From near the car, he had a damned good idea as to who those bodies would be. Hell

yes, a DAMNED good idea. His steps brought him closer to those bodies. They were just 

lying over there and not moving. The bodies looked so dead that they may not as well have 

been alive at all. And within moments, walking along black screech marks, he was here.

_____The Dark Stranger saw "himself" lying on the street, chest-down, his face turned to the 

side. His own eyes stared dead. Kneeling down, he put a finger to the synthetic flesh of the 

face, then to the jacket. Hmmph, even the leather jacket was the same: real leather. 

_____Well-well-well, thought the Dark Stranger. The Janitor is getting rather clever! If the 

Janitor had power enough to pull a stunt like this, perhaps he had better be a bit more careful!

He should have turned on the device in the car to keep something like this from happening,

this trickery.

_____He heard small footsteps coming up beside him. The footsteps stopped, surprised--and 

there was a small girlish squeak of fear. "I told you not to look," said the Dark Stranger. "I 

said you would not be able to handle it."

_____"Oh...my...GOD!" exclaimed Mai, her pink metal fingers at her cheeks. Her eyes were

wide with fear. "How the fuck...? WHAT'S GOING ON HERE! HOW THE FUCK DID THIS 

HAPPEN! WHO THE HELL…!" She was becoming hysterical.

_____As soon as Mai said that last word, there was a sudden gust of wind that almost knocked

her over. And the bodies were gone... The screech marks were still here, but the bodies were 

not. 

_____"Hmm..." went the Dark Stranger. He stood and turned to look at the pink-bodied 

female cyborg. She was still staring at where the bodies were. "As I said earlier, I still believe

it is too dangerous to enter this sector of the city. But if we are to find who is speeding the

decadence of Zalem's ruling computer--Melchezedek--we must investigate."

_____"But... But..." stuttered Mai. "Who knew we were coming? Along THIS road? It's not

like we TOLD people or anything! How did they know? And how the HELL did they make 

EXACT copies of our own bodies?"

_____Listening very carefully to the sounds on the wind, the wind blowing through the city 

streets, the Dark Stranger could hear that distant swish-swish-swish of the push-broom. "Let

us regroup and try getting into that sector some other time," he said.

...

_____The Janitor was here, but those bounty hunters would not have been able to see him. Had 

the Dark Stranger bothered to try and look, he would have seen the broom-carrying figure in 

blue coveralls and cap--standing there on the sidewalk. But the Dark Stranger was too busy 

pondering his next move to notice. The Janitor walked away, disappearing into the wind.

...

_____"I truly am glad you chose to honor our invitation, Lissette," said Miss Patsun. She back 

reclined in a grand cushioned seat, set at the long corporate table. She was as elegantly dressed

as all the other high executives in this wood-paneled meeting room. Her eyes, and everyone 

else's, were on the dark-haired girl in white blouse and pleated skirt--sitting opposite Patsun. 

"It is not often that the...ah...president of the Parasol Club graces us with her presence." A smile

came to her silky face. "And we thank you for the excellent work you are doing in keeping Zalem 

out of our affairs."

_____Lissette's pretty face took on a nasty look. She was "invited," meaning that she had practically

ORDERED to attend a meeting of the Feng-Long. As for the praise from Miss Patsun, it was all

poisoned with sarcasm. 

_____"Damn it!" exclaimed the long-haired hacker-girl. "Look, Patsun! My hackers and I are 

STILL doing our damned BEST to keep Zalem disconnected from here! Better yet, the Network 

is going down any day now. DOWN, do you understand? Some day soon, there won't be ANY 

damned bounty hunters because there won't be any bounty! 

_____"Then you won't even need our help. But if it weren't for my club, there would be Deckmen 

and missle-toting Netmen and all kinds of bounty hunters coming here! They would rush the border 

of this sector and come hoarding on in like some kind of invading army from centuries ago!"

_____"Hmm... Quite interesting," said Miss Patsun. "Note, you just stated that WE--the Feng-

Long Society--need you to keep the bounty hunters out and prevent an invasion." Her eyes 

glinted, and her voice took on a darker tone. "Perhaps you have deliberately lapsed your 

anti-Network efforts to allow for certain...contingencies to arise to suit certain plans you have."

_____Lissette rolled her eyes. "You're fucking KIDDING ME! Now you're accusing ME of

letting bounty bastards in, for some kind of scam? That sounds like something YOUR organization 

would do, NOT mine! This is so much SHIT!" 

_____Everyone looked on silently. The dark-haired girl took in a calming breath. "We're 

just HACKERS, okay? We're not extortionists or plotters, or anything like that. I'm saying 

we're better at manipulating computers and machines than we are at manipulating PEOPLE." 

She shrugged. "Besides, my club isn't interested in getting rich--because there's not much to 

spend money on. All we care about is screwing around with computers and...hanging out."

_____Just as one of Miss Patsun's fellow executives was going to reply, Lissette held up a hand.

"No, wait... I'm not finished talking yet," she said, lowering her hand. "Something happened

last night. Or I should say, almost happened. It was dumb luck that someone sent me a 

message about one of my friends being attacked by some of those hunter-freaks. When I found

her, they were getting ready to rape her somehow. All her clothes were ripped off. I had to

kill them before they did something. Do you think I want those swords-for-hire FUCKERS

in this sector? Hell no!" She tapped the hard surface of the long table. "I hate bounty 

hunters just as much as you do."

_____Another executive spoke up, a bald-headed man with a lean face. "How do we know 

that the little run-in your friend had wasn't just an accidental result of your plan? Maybe you

really did let some bounty posting go up and you couldn't account for..."

_____"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU PEOPLE!" screamed Lissette. "You just don't know how 

crazy that sounds right now! What have you been taking recently? Did you smoke it or pop 

it? I'm wondering that, because only DRUGS would make someone think I'd even let any of 

my friends come close to that kind of trouble!" 

_____"You have said ENOUGH, Lissette," declared Miss Patsun, wincing at every shrieking

word from the female hacker. "Lissette, in the several years I have known your personality, I

can see that you are sincere in your statements. I merely wanted to test a hypothesis. It was 

not me that suspected wrongdoing on the part of the Parasol Club. Rather, the high degree 

of worry has fed suspicion.... That your group was not performing its job for some reason. 

I apologize for saying what I did."

_____Lissette went open-mouthed in shock, dark eyes wide. She closed her mouth, deciding

not to say something. Instead, she gave a "hmmph" and went silent--realizing just what happened.

Oh yes, the Feng-Long Society really was good at manipulating people. By getting so hot and 

angry, she had come right into their emotional trickery. She felt played.

_____Miss Patsun placed both of her hands atop the table. "Well...! Now we come to the 

primary subject of this meeting: the bounty hunters. As we all know by now, there have been 

more of them coming into this sector. We know that the Network is having problems due to 

whatever is happening in Zalem. And we are assured that Lissette's club is still trying to keep 

bounties from being posted. 

_____"Yet, there has been an increase in the amount of bounty hunter activities locally. They

behave as if they have been promised plenty of cash for merely bringing back the heads of 

certain people. Why they are now doing this, or how, we cannot be sure." Miss Patsun regarded 

those at this meeting table. "What we can do is address the symptoms of the problem before 

we can diagnose the nature of the problem itself. What can we do?"

_____The bald executive-man with the lean face spoke up. "I can have shopkeepers be on 

the lookout for people they would consider strangers. Everybody knows everybody in their

neighborhoods by now, and they would recognize new faces."

_____Another executive, a younger-looking sort with crew-cut dark hair, gave the next 

suggestion. "I can ask some people at my office to type up some more newsprint articles about

the bounty hunter problems. Everyone wants to write and read about the problems up in Zalem

and the latest gladiatorial champions at the arenas, but I think we can squeeze in some more 

articles about other things."

_____Miss Patsun nodded. "As for myself, I suggest the formation of a new enforcer task 

force--an elite unit. It would be a group formed not for the purpose of preventing general 

disturbances, but exclusively for stopping bounty hunters." She smiled. "What better way to 

stop hunters than with...hunters? In fact, they are already at work." 

...

2.

...

_____Sera took a walk down a downtown sidewalk, dressed in an unusually short and tight-

fitting green dress--the form-fitting fabric clinging to the firm lines and curves of her (metal!) 

body, stocking covering her legs. Her long red hair was pulled back in a simple and very long 

red ponytail, revealing her slim back. This was the sort of clothing she should have worn in 

her previous profession--but chose not to. Now she wore it for a different purpose.

_____It was several hours after the midday lunch-break, and most everyone was working. 

So city traffic was minimal. A lot fewer people were on the streets. Meaning, it would be 

easier to find and attract certain people who didn't belong in this sector. As the young cyborg 

continued her way along, she was sure to keep looking around. She had the strong feeling, the 

idea, that there were bounty hunters around here. Sera didn't know how she knew this; she 

just...knew. And then she began to hear the swish-swish-swish of an unseen push-broom.

_____The Janitor was nearby! Sera stopped. Slowly turning her head side-to-side, she tried

to hear where the sound of his broom was coming from...across the street! The sound seemed

to be coming from around that mixed group of full-flesh humans and cyborgs sitting on the curb. 

They looked like construction workers, eating lunches out of metal boxes. She hadn't noticed that 

group before because they looked pretty much like all the other people around here. But the 

midday lunch break had ended several hours ago. And construction workers would have been

more chatty. Meaning that those people... 

_____She began to quickly walk across the city street. Luckily, there wasn't much vehicular traffic 

around this time of day. She couldn't move too fast as the tight and "sexy" dress was so restrictive

around her hips and mid-thighs. This made her move in a wriggling sort of way, a fast walk. As 

she concentrated on moving fast and keeping her balance, the group of lunch-eating "construction 

workers" looked in her direction.

_____When she made it over there, she had their full attention! One of the fleshies even 

whistled in admiration. "You look ni-i-ce, honey. Too bad your body isn't real, though" he 

commented. "If it was, I'd kill any boyfriend you have just to have you."

_____Swish-swish-swish, went the Janitor's broom. "Gosh…!" responded Sera. "Such 

strong language! You're not from this sector, are you?" she asked. Her eyes narrowed as 

the sound of the Janitor's broom seemed to grow louder and larger: Swish-swish-SWISH! 

"You know what I think? I think you're looking for bounty!"

_____In a moment, the attitude of the lunching construction workers here went from friendly

and laid-back to ANGRY. They threw down their lunches and JUMPED to their feet. With

various quick gestures, they pulled out bladed weapons from hidden sheaths in their clothes. 

"Aw, damn! You just had to go ahead and say the wrong thing, bitch," said the fleshie male. 

"Now I'm gonna have to cut your pretty head of your from your pretty body!" CRACK! 

_____Just as he said those words, there was a loud snapping sound from over across the street. 

Now the fleshie male's face was a blasted mess of blood and bone. He dropped his weapon and 

began grabbing at his head, the front of his head just so much meat and bone. Blood spurted

and poured as he twitched and died. 

_____Hee-hee-hee...! Someone started giggling. Then Sera realized that SHE was the one doing

the giggling. She just couldn't help it. It was as if her throat and lungs were under someone 

else's control. "Hee-hee-hee!" She backed off, then let loose with outright laughter. 

"Ha-ha-ha...!"

_____"What are you LAUGHING at, you creepy bitch?" said one of the cyborgs. He gripped

his weapon in both hands and began stepping in Sera's direction. CRACK! CRACK-CRACK!

The echoing sounds of several gunshots came from somewhere across the street. And yet

another bounty hunter went down--a shower of sparks and blood.

_____"HA-HA-HA-HA...!" Sera let her head tilt back as she let the hysterical laughter overcome 

her. Her metal neck arched and mouth open as the laughter exploded from her throat. The 

surviving bounty hunters dropped their weapons and put their hands--flesh and metal--to their 

ears. They wanted her to STOP LAUGHING! Grunting, they began to sink to their knees on the 

sidewalk--overcome with so…much…PAIN! 

_____And that was when a new and full cavalcade of gunfire came from across the street. The 

enforcers got out from behind that over there car and continued firing. Males and females in 

dark business suits, they all had very big handguns gripped in their metal hands. And Sera

just kept LAUGHING. Aah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha...!

_____CRACK! CRACK-CRACK-CRACK! Whichever was louder, the gunfire or the laughter, it was 

hard to tell. Sera's uncontrollable laughter and the loud blasting sounds of gunfire drowned out

sounds of everything else. And the bullets kept zipping in this direction, snapping and blasting 

away various body parts. Bodies of flesh or metal, it didn't matter. The ceramic rounds did a 

damned good job of blasting everything! Even when the bounty hunters were surely dead and 

fallen, the enforcers' gunfire continued to blast them apart.

_____Sera's laughter stopped when the gunfire did. She now seemed out of breath and 

unusually tired. Gasping, she walked over to where the bloody and ruined bodies lie...in pieces.

This group of hunters was now just a bloody mess on the sidewalk. They were no longer a

threat to anyone around here.

_____THUNK! She kicked one of the bloody body parts that looked like a head, and that 

round body part went rollicking away like a kid's toy ball. But this "ball" left wet squish-marks

wherever it bounced along the sidewalk. And there was now a big red stain on Sera's right

purple shoe, on the toes.

_____The enforcers holstered their guns and regarded their handiwork. "WELL! That worked!"

said one of them, a brown-haired and plain-faced sort. He looked over at Sera. "How did

you do that? Give them headaches with your voice, I mean? From where we were, it just 

looked like you were laughing or something. It made them drop their weapons before we

started...heh-heh...blasting their asses to bits."

_____Sera shrugged and looked down. That was when she noticed the condition of her tight 

green dress. It was now absolutely spattered with dark stains. She delicately touched her left 

cheek and rubbed. Looking at the fingers, she saw more blood. Somehow, this fascinated her. 

It was the blood of enemies, glinting in the sunlight. Blood was the color of pain and revenge.

...

_____She had to toss the dress: It was too damned bloodied up to use right now, and there

was no time to head for a laundromat for washing it. They had bounty hunters to hunt! Oh

well, they could always try the same ploy tomorrow or something. For the rest of the day, they

had no trouble finding small and scattered parties of bounty hunters in this sector--the hunters

doing their damned best to stay hidden and disguised.

_____Oh, they're GOOD, thought Sera as she rode along in this car. She smiled. But they 

were not good enough to fool the Janitor! Because he--the Janitor--was helping Sera and the

other enforcers find those kill-for-hire opportunists wherever they hid. For example, there was 

that trio of bounty hunters walking along that sidewalk, in front of that shoe warehouse. Those 

big burly bounty hunters were disguised as yet more construction workers--pretending to carry 

construction materials in crates atop their shoulders. 

_____"Hey, slow the car down," said Sera, looking at the guy driving this car. The enforcer

at the wheel nodded and slowed this vehicle down. "Damn, are they ALL trying the same

cornball disguise?" she said aloud. "They must all be acting as one great big team. Hmmph, 

pretty weird for bounty hunters, huh?"

_____"Maybe the master computer up in Zalem told them to do it," said the enforcer at the

wheel. "Goes to show how wacky that Melchezedek is becoming." Bringing this car closer 

to the curb, his line of sight followed Sera's. 

_____He didn't hear it, but Sera did. Swish-swish-swish... She could hear the distinct sound

of the Janitor's broom out there. She couldn't see him, but he was definitely out there: guiding

her to the bounty hunters in the now-too-obvious disguises. "Okay, let's go kick some butt,"

she said. "There's only three of them. I think we can do this without wasting your ammunition."

_____"Fine by me," said one of the female enforcers in the back seats. When the car stopped,

she put on dark sunglasses and was the first to get out. She liked her job: It made her feel cool

and dangerous at the same time. 

_____Out on the sidewalk, Sera and the enforcers strode in the direction of the "construction

workers" carrying those crates. "Hey, YOU!" she shouted. "Get over here. We want to

TALK to you." Swish-swish-swish! The sound of the Janitor's broom became louder in her

ears, just like earlier today. Careful, now! She didn't want to be too obvious this time. She 

wanted to surprise them.

_____The three turn around and put down their crates. But they didn't quite release the crates, 

their gray electromechanical hands resting lightly on the square tops. Weapons! That was 

when Sera did a quick dashing step over and obliterated one of the crates! Two alloyed swords

went clattering along the sidewalk..

_____And THAT was when the chaos began! The one with the broken crate tried to knock 

off Sera's head, a swift punch aimed at her neck! She managed to DUCK the blow--and the 

attack only struck trailing hair. Sera's punches, though, went through the abdominal armor of 

the attacker. The poor sap grunted and collapsed, sparks and blood gushing from his shattered

metal body. "Not so hot without your weapons, huh? Dumb fucker..." she commented

_____Before the other two bounty hunters could snatch open their crates, the enforcers 

decided to use up some ammunition after all. They drew their guns and the sharp loud CRACK-

CRACK-CRACK of gunfire filled the city air. There was blood and sparks all over the place

as the ceramic rounds punched big nasty holes in the metal bodies of the bounty hunters. They

died, of course.

…

_____Cruising around, Sera and the other enforcers were able to find one more group of 

stalking bounty hunters before sunset. She heard the sound of the Janitor's broom again

as her eyes focused in on a trio of yet MORE bounty hunters dressed as construction workers. 

Yet that group was in the business of deconstruction--trying to get into this sector and destroying 

things.

_____The enforcer driving this car stopped the vehicle. "Damn, you're right, Sera," he said.

"They are all trying that same stupid disguise! Heh-heh, they must WANT to be killed. Let's 

go," he said.

_____Everyone got out of the car and approached that group of six. Oddly enough, one of 

the bounty hunters was a full-flesh female--armed with some kind of powered blade. "WE'RE

FOUND OUT!" she shoutedl as she turned, now standing with her small glowing blade at the 

ready. Its ultra-sharp edge giving off an eerie bluish glow.

_____The other five bounty hunters took out other bladed weapons. "That must be the

illegal security force! The enforcers!" said one of them. "Their heads must be worth something. 

Let's get some." And they rushed over here, the bright gold light of the city afternoon sunlight 

glinting off of their various blades. But, again that day, the guns of the other enforcers came 

in handy.

…

_____When that group was trashed, it was time for Sera's shift to end. The enforcers in the

business suits reported their activities to one of the local offices, reloaded their weapons with

more ceramic rounds, and they all drove over to their favorite bar: The Turning Wheel. It was

in the downtown area, not far from where most of the night clubs were.

_____Inside was the typical setup: a mid-sized place. The drinking bar at the opposite end 

of the main room, with round tables for customers who just wanted to sit with friends and 

talk. "I'll get the drinks," said the male enforcer with dark, crew-cut hair. "Beers to start?"

_____They all agreed to that, moving over to one of the tables close to the big windows 

near the door. Looking out the window, a person could see city trucks and some cars 

driving along the street--plenty of people along the sidewalks. Those trucks had to ship them 

to warehouses and stores. The late afternoon city sunlight cast everything in a reddish-golden 

color out there.

_____"Here we go! On me!" said the enforcer returning with the drinks. He put the mugs 

atop the table, and everyone grabbed one. Getting into a seat, he wrapped a metal hand 

around his own beer. "Here's to a damned good day of work!"

_____Everyone lifted their mugs in cheer and drank. Sera drank a quarter of her beer, set it

down, and stared into it. The softened light from over the table glinted in the golden liquid. 

"So we're in for some real trouble now, aren't we?" she said.

_____"Huh?" went one of the male enforcers sitting here. "Oh, you're talking about those jerks 

showing up in town." He shrugged shoulders. "No problem. Everybody knows that the big 

damned machine Melchezedek is breaking down. Good riddance!"

_____"Yeah, so cheer up!" said the other female enforcer--the one with the dark sunglasses. 

"We're doing better than the bounty hunters. Hah, with their outdated bladed weapons 

and that stupid law of theirs against guns, we're going to keep blasting their stupid ASSES 

until they stop coming!" 

_____Just then, Sera had a mental image of someone sitting in a dark place, laughing. The 

Dream Woman was... Ha-ha-ha...! Why was she laughing? And she usually only saw that 

strange, red-eyed female in her dreams. Why now, when she was fully awake?

...

3.

...

_____The latest gathering of bounty hunters took place at the sector's border, in one of many 

abandoned buildings around this area. This building used to be a warehouse, big and industrial. 

The huge inside had some ancient car shells and dusty crates along the cracked walls, looking 

shadowy in the gloom. It was unusually quiet in here, and the only light in here was very 

dim--the street lights faintly glowing through windows set near the ceiling.

_____Most of the eleven bounty hunters here had night-vision enhancements to their artificial

eyesight. They could see well enough in the incredibly dim gloom. Being able to see in near-

dark helped them find criminals--heads to take for cash.

_____These cyborgs really were a varied bunch. Some of them were massive male cyborgs 

whose eight-foot metal selves looked as if they were former arena gladiators. A few more of 

them were fashion-freaks out of random decades from the past. (Some of them had been 

cyborgs for over a century; they had lived through all kinds of decades, all kinds of fashions.)

In contrast to the massive males and more average-sized hunters, there were two petite 

female cyborgs of dollish stature, silky hair and pretty eyes, dressed in rather childish clothes; 

those "twins" looked more suited to a playground than to THIS place. 

_____"Where is he? We must've been here for about an HOUR!" growled one of the huge 

male cyborgs, getting up from where he sat on the floor. "An HOUR! Sixty minutes!" As 

soon as he said those words, there was the sound of a car engine rumbling over by the 

warehouse's huge truck-doors. There was more rumbling as someone began pushing aside

one of the warehouse doors--making way for those damned BRIGHT headlights shining in. 

_____The car's engine rumbled as it eased on into here, those headlights blazing like twin 

nuclear spotlights. Since everyone was sitting in one small area of this huge place, on crates 

and what-not, the headlights illuminated everyone. Squinting, they looked past the headlights 

and at the car as the engine shut off. 

_____There was the sound of the car door opening, and someone got out of the driver's side.

"Ah! How well you all came!" declared the Dark Stranger from over there, dressed in his 

outdated outfit of jeans, white tee-shirt and real leather jacket. Black boots were on his feet, 

matching his crew-cut dark hair. Oh yes, other than his exposed metal hands, he still looked 

like someone right out of history prints. "For a moment, I doubted that you all would honor 

my invitation to this rather impromptu get-together." He walked over to here, walking along 

the blazing path set by the headlights.

_____"Make no mistake, Mr. Dark," said another male bounty hunter, "we are only here 

under a good idea for profit. We want easy bounty from the sector run by outlaws, but we 

believe it is the strange one who repels our friends. The enforcers can be defeated by force. 

But as for the one who has the broom, a different matter altogether."

_____One of the dollish twins spoke up. Saying, "Yeah, what ABOUT that freaky guy with 

the broom, mister? We're not gonna tell ANY of our friends to come with us into that sector 

unless we can at least deal with THAT weirdo!" 

_____"Really now? Are those ALL of your concerns?" asked the Dark Stranger as he stepped 

into the middle of the gathering. He had to be careful about what he said: The bounty hunters 

here were the most influential and well-known throughout the city. 

_____The motley group here was supposed to be the bounty hunter elite--with hundreds of 

bounty kills to each of their records. If he could convince this group to join him in raiding that 

sector, then he would have an army. An ARMY! It was something not seen in decades. He 

imagined the power of ONE HUNDRED excellent bounty hunters! And he grinned at the 

thought. Oh, the might would be an awesome thing. 

_____"Well!" he continued. "Anyway, as said, I truly am glad you all have come. As a premise 

to this meeting, I will show you that you have nothing to fear from the 'weirdo' known as the 

Janitor. Hah! He is no more bizarre or mysterious than I am. To show that he can be 

stopped, I will put on a brief demonstration." Shrugging his shoulders, he adjusted his black 

leather jacket, then turned his head to shout towards the car. "Mai! Bring the equipment!"

_____"Sure thing!" she responded from over by the car. The blue-haired, pink-bodied 

cyborg-girl reached into the back of the vehicle, took out two things: a suitcase and a cage. 

She then began walking over here with those two things. In the cage was a huge gray rat--scampering 

and squeaking as it was being brought closer to here. "Here you go, Mr. Dark! The case 

and the…rat. You know, you're really gross sometimes."

_____"Thank you, Mai!" said the Dark Stranger. He accepted the caged rat and suitcase. 

"Now, go to the car and be prepared to turn on the other device in case HE should show up.

Remember to listen for the sound." Mai walked away, her sneakers padding her steps. And 

the Dark Stranger began putting things down. 

_____"What're you going to do to that mousey rat?" asked one of the cyborg doll-twins. She 

felt sorry for the small animal in the cage. "No, wait... I don't think I want to know. It's not 

going to be messy, will it?" 

_____"On the contrary, it will be! QUITE messy, that is!" cheered the Dark Stranger. He 

opened up the suitcase, which held some kind of little portable cabinet and an old rusty metal 

device. The device was a sort of metal cube with knobs and plastic labels on the front, the 

metal casing old and crusty with rust. It looked like a sort of radio--but with no metal antenna 

or trailing electrical cord. And there were too many dials for it to be a radio. 

_____"What's that?" asked someone aloud. Ignoring the question, the Dark Stranger took a 

paintbrush from one of the small drawers, and a small bowl from another. These he set on 

the dusty warehouse floor. From yet another drawer in the suitcase, he took a small-bladed 

knife. Holding it in his right hand, he used his left hand opened up the cage and grip the rat.

_____By the white brightness of the car headlights, they saw the Dark Stranger lop off the 

rat's head with two strokes. He quickly poured the flowing, wet shiny blood into the bowl. 

That done, he tossed the rat's body off into the surrounding darkness of the warehouse. The 

little gray head floated in the bowl, the whiskers twitching for some more moments. "Now, as 

to what happens next, my friends, do not be frightened!"

_____He took up the small paintbrush from the open suitcase-cabinet and dipped it into the

rat's blood. Using the blood, he began to paint a plate-sized circle on the warehouse floor. 

It took a little while and more than a little of the blood, but it was done. Then he carefully 

painted strange characters within the circle. 

_____"Why, I've nearly forgotten!" he said aloud. Once more, he reached into the drawers

of the open suitcase-cabinet. Out came six white candles and a metal lighter. He used the

lighter to melt the bottoms of the candles--so they would stick to the warehouse floor when 

he set them around the bloody circle. 

_____Finally, he took up the strange rusty device that looked like a radio. He put it next to 

his ear, turned some knobs. BZZT! HIS-S-S... Sparks and a little smoke flared out from the 

knobs as he made adjustments. "Ah... There!" he said, setting the odd device in the middle 

of the circle. 

_____Bzz-z-z... The boxy, rusty machine made random electrical sounds as if it was picking 

up a far-off radio station. "COME AROUND HERE, JANITOR! HA-HA-HA...!" shouted 

the Dark Stranger "THAT'S RIGHT! I AM CALLING YOU!" His shouting echoed off the 

walls as the wind began to blow and everyone began to hear sweeping. 

______He laughed louder, and the wind's howling was louder than that. Mai screamed when 

the car lights went out, making darkness shut over everyone. Yet, the flames from the candles 

still burned. The light from the candles burned BRIGHTER, becoming huge flames. As the 

Dark Stranger laughed and laughed and the candles burned brighter and brighter, the 

blood-painted circle seemed to grow until...

...

_____...The Janitor stood up in the darkness of the Other Place His head swiveled left, then 

right. He clutched his broom with both strong hands, the long wooden handle seeming ready 

to creak and crack in his grip. His thoughts were almost angry enough to be heard. Then he

began to walk. 

...

_____"Aah-HA-HA-HA...!" screamed the Dark Stranger in all the chaos. The wind whipped

up a storm, the candles flamed, and all the people felt all lost in the darkness and wind and 

noise. "WHERE ARE YOU, JANITOR! COME! IMPRESS MY FRIENDS! AAH-HA- 

HA-HA-HA...!" 

_____Then everything went quiet, as if all the wind and chaos was shut off with a switch. The

candles winked out. "What?" All of that wind stopped. And the car headlights flickered 

back on. The cyborgs here blinked against the brightness and looked around their litttle 

gathering place. 

_____What the Hell just happened here? They couldn't be sure. The last thing they knew, 

the Dark Stranger was trying some kind of experiment with the weird device. Then there was

all of this wind, the car's lights went out for a little while, crazy shit like that. Now everything 

was back to normal.

_____No, wait. What's that sound? Was someone... CRACK! "Uh... Guh-guh..." One of 

the bounty hunters grunted and gasped, his chest having exploded in a blast of sparks and 

blood. Everyone looked down, dumbstruck, as their comrade fell to the warehouse floor, 

writing in pain.

_____"It's the ENFORCERS!" shouted the Dark Stranger. Too fucking late! At least six 

quick people in dark business clothes came rushing out of the darkness, blocky handguns 

firing in this direction. CRACK-CRACK! Another bounty hunter took a hits from ceramic 

rounds, blood and sparks spraying. Everyone else ran off in different directions, shoving aside

anyone in their way to get away. 

_____CRACK! A ceramic round had hit the Dark Stranger's car, knocking out the left 

headlight. A few more bullets zipped by the Dark Stranger himself as he made his getaway, 

getting into the car with Mai. 

_____The engine roared, followed by a soprano squeal of spinning tires as it did a fishtailing 

turn-around. With a huge roaring flame from the tailpipe, a BLAST of sound, the Dark 

Stranger's one-eyed vehicle rammed its way through the big warehouse doors--the doors 

only made out of rusty, corrugated sheets of metal. 

_____And his car went roaring off into the city night. The light from his car faded off into the

distance, the flaming tailpipe a distant flicker. There was a squeal of tires as the dark vehicle 

made a turn. God DAMN! The bastard in the dark leather jacket had gotten away!

...

_____All the smoke from the flaming tailpipe and burning rubber took a while to clear. Someone 

found the old switchbox for the warehouse lights. Only three lights came on, but it made for 

enough brightness to see by. A person could now see how damned big this place was. Even 

with the metal junk in random piles and along the wall, there was still plenty of space here.

_____Sera stepped over to the small area where the bounty hunters had huddled together, 

where one of them lie bleeding and gasping for air. He had fallen next to the circle of blood 

and burnt-out candles. When Sera stepped closer, he tried to raise his blade... CRACK! 

His blade was blasted away, along with his right metal hand.

_____Another enforcer stepped up--a male in typical dark business suit. "Let me handle this,"

he said to Sera. The red-haired cyborg stepped out of the way. What interested her was 

the evidence of whatever the bounty hunters were trying to do here. She saw the circle painted 

in blood, the burnt-out candles, and a black square in the middle. It was as if something had

almost burned into the hard concrete floor of the warehouse.

_____CRACK! The bounty hunter's metal body twitched on the floor as the enforcer holstered 

his blocky metal gun within his jacket-holster. "Heh, how's THAT for a bounty, punk!" he 

said, adjusting his black jacket. A final THUMP, he had given the bounty hunter's body a kick. 

"Those dumb fucks STILL don't understand. At least this bunch wasn't wearing stupid-looking

construction clothes for disguises."

_____Another enforcer walked over to here. "Hey Sera, you're pretty good at finding out 

these assholes before they do damage, Sera," he said. He looked down at the mess: the 

painted circle, the candles, and the burnt square. "I'll be damned! It looks like someone tried 

a religious experiment or something. How'd you know the bounty hunters would be here?"

_____She glanced over at the other enforcer, smiled at him. "You wouldn't believe me if I 

told you. I don't even believe it." Looking down, she toed one of the candles. The melted 

bottoms had kept them stuck to the dusty concrete floor.

_____"What, did you just GUESS?" he said, half-kidding. Sera's eyes were serious for a 

moment. Her answer was a shrug, her eyes looking to the circle of candles. "I don't believe 

you! You must have some way of finding these assholes before they cause trouble. You must 

know some people, right? No, wait... I get it!" He snapped metal fingers. "You know a 

double-agent! A spy who pretends to be a hunter, or a secret friend sending messages from 

Zalem... Something like that, right?"

_____"Yeah, that's it," she answered, beginning to pace around the circle of candles. "A spy.

I know a spy or something that spies on the bounty hunters. He's so good that he knows what

the bounty hunters do even before they do it."

_____"Glad to know that friend of yours is on our side," answered the enforcer. Sera then 

stopped pacing in mid-step, her sneaker-covered left foot poised above the concrete floor. 

It was hard to see her facial expression, her long red hair curtained her face. Then she resumed 

her circular pacing, humming to herself as the other enforcers cleaned up the scene.

...

4.

...

_____Mai was driving the car because the Dark Stranger was having a headache. It wasn't 

that he was sick or anything, it was just that the strange machine installed in the car was on. 

The strange machine would keep the Janitor away: It always did. But, as usual, it also caused 

the Dark Stranger to have a headache. 

_____"You know? It's pretty funky, driving your car with only one headlight," commented

the female cyborg, obviously unaffected by the effects of the Janitor-repelling machine. "I'm 

sure glad we only have to drive straight. Gee, no one else is on the the road! I ought to see 

how fast this car of yours can go!" She goosed the engine, and the car accelerated a bit. 

"Whee-e-e! FUN!" The Dark Stranger grunted from the passenger seat. "Hey, you really 

don't sound so hot. Should I turn the repeller-thingy off?"

_____He slowly shook his head, hunched over near the dashboard--lost in misery. "It is over. 

I have failed to rally support...among...the other bounty hunters," he said. His headache pounded 

and pulsed in his head, matching his sense of failure. Funny how a cyborg's head could hurt; 

the brain had no pain receptors. Still, he fought the urge to reach over to the dashboard and 

flick the switch that would turn off the strange machine, the "repeller-thingy." 

_____Then again, why should he care if the Janitor got him? He felt that his grand plan was 

destroyed: the plan to gather an army of bounty hunters and smash the Feng-Long society!

Too bad, the grand scheme was all blasted to pieces. And he was wrong about the Janitor;

the Janitor was now a lot stronger than he thought. 

_____If the Dark Stranger flicked off the strange machine, the Janitor would get him. And then 

all of the Dark Stranger's troubles would be over. At least in this world. But before he died, he 

wanted to do something. The urge for revenge pulsed in his head with the rhythm of the 

pounding headache.

_____"Gosh, you're sounding really quiet," said Mai. The engine was pretty loud. "Are you 

still breathing, dude? It would be, like, a real bummer if you kicked off before I heard your next

plan. You DO have another plan. Right, RIGHT? Huh?"

_____This car soon enough came to an area where there were street lights. Good, they were

outside of that criminal-run sector. It felt good to be back out in the rest of the city, where 

Zalem's master computer ran things. Now he could turn off the strange machine: click! 

_____Ah, how SWEET! His headache vanished, as if six syringes of morphine were 

simultaneously jammed right into his brain. He sat up in the seat and looked at the urban 

scenery they were driving through now: blocky gray buildings, plenty of streetlamps, and the 

low hum of factory machinery around here.

_____"What about your PLA-A-AN?" whined Mai. "I wanna know what you're gonna do 

NEXT! How are we supposed to be friends if you're keeping me out of what you're thinking?"

she added, slowing the car down. There were other bounty hunters stalking the sidewalks:

If she struck and killed someone, like one of those delicate fleshies, it would be her head with

a price on it. 

_____"Oh, I do have a plan. But I wish it to be a surprise," answered the Dark Stranger, a 

smile on his smarmy face. "In the meanwhile... Do park the car next to that hangout over 

there," he said, pointing to a neon-lit club along the left side of this street. It was a hunter's 

hangout--a bounty hunter's club. "I have yet to work out the details."

_____Mai nodded. She slowed the car and turned the wheel several times to the left. The

tires squeaked once as this car U-turned. When this car came to the curb, she braked, turned 

off the car engine. 

_____"I know when you want be left alone," she said. "But you'll let me know about what 

you want to do next, right? Don't leave your friends in the dark, Mr. Dark!"

_____"Assuredly, you shall know," he said to her. He saw Mai give a beaming smile as she 

opened up the car door and got out. He reached over, took the car keys from the ignition, 

and also got out. 

_____"I'll see you tomorrow!" said Mai, already some distance from this car. "Guess I'll see 

you here? Around noon or something?" Hope filled her voice and showed on her pretty face.

_____"Yes..." said the Dark Stranger. "One way or another." It was the first time he had 

lied to that cyborg-girl. Before, he stayed honest with her just to keep her as an ally. But 

now, it was over. He didn't need her anymore. He felt he didn't need ANYONE anymore.

"Goodbye, Mai."

_____"Good night, Mr. Dark!" she said. And Mai walked away, humming a cheerful and 

silly little tune as she went off into the city night. Her place was not too far from here. She 

would be home before dawn, which was not less than an hour away. Cyborgs didn't need 

much sleep anyway.

_____The Dark Stranger watched until she went around a corner and was out of sight. Standing 

on this sidewalk, lit with streetlamps, he pocketed his car keys and made sure that he still had 

his small portable pouch of credit-chips--kept in the left pocket of his black leather jacket. 

Maybe he would find a way to waste all of it on drinks tonight. So set, he walked into the 

hangout. Not that he noticed, but just a little bit of blood trickled from his left ear.

_____At first, there were plenty of other bounty hunters in the smallish first-floor room--about 

the size of a living room if one took out that space occupied by the drinking bar. The night-time

crowd was all around and all loud. They drank and talked about the heads they had cashed

in recently. One female had the habit of laughing too loud every so often. The crowd soon 

enough thinned out. Two left, then three. Five left after that. 

_____He was eventually the only one in the hangout--besides the female bartender. She was

unusually attractive, a fleshe. Why hadn't he noticed her before? Maybe he was just too numb 

from all the planning and drinking he was doing. Her eyes were big and emerald-green, sparkly.

Feathery blonde hair went to shoulder-length, her slim body dressed in white blouse, dark vest

and leotard-like pants. Hell, she was so pretty that he almost had the will to live again. But her

smile was a little creepy. 

...

_____Sunlight was but a faint reddish glow on the eastern horizon right now. It was still cool,

and most of the sky over this industrial city was still full of darkness. Damn, and the streetlamps 

were still on. Jacob Harding, an enforcer, was feeling damned depressed. He had NEVER 

started his shift this early before. But all of those on his team had decided to get started really 

early today. 

_____Too fucking early, he thought as he sat on an old metal chair set on this sidewalk. He 

had found the chair in an alley, and it was clean enough not to soil the pants of his suit. He 

and several others were waiting for their ride to get here. "I didn't even get to brush my teeth,"

he muttered.

_____"Since when do cyborgs need to brush teeth?" asked Jamie--a female enforcer in a

typical black dress-suit, her nutmeg-brown hair looking surprisingly neat and brushed so damned 

early in the morning. Jacob looked bedraggled; Jamie looked groomed. "Well, I brushed 

MY teeth," she added. "That's just out of old habit, though. But I don't think we'll ever have 

to worry about losing teeth."

_____"Gosh, Jamie, you sure know how to talk a point to death," commented Victor. "Your

body's energy systems must have a nuclear battery backup or something--to power that mouth

of yours." Victor was a pale-skinned enforcer who tended to smile often. Dressed like any 

typical enforcer, his dark hair was always slicked back with some kind of lubricant. He was 

probably the only enforcer who did that. "Now, if we could use that mouth power for the 

purpose of good."

_____Jamie crossed her arms. "Oh YEAH? We could get a lot more use out of all the greasy 

junk you mix and put in your hair! I bet someone could figure out how to use it to stop bounty 

hunters or something. Smear your head along the ground, make 'em trip! We would have 

hired you earlier...if we hadn't found out your hair stuff is probably responsible for about six 

different types of cancer in fleshies."

_____"Har-har-har...!" went Victor, mocking Jacob's cynical laughter. "Jamie, I'll bet you 

were a toilet bowl in a past life. Because you talk so much shit. You must stock up on toilet 

paper at home to wipe your mouth a lot." Jacob laughed even louder.

_____"Wait, wait... What's that I smell?" said Jamie. She pretended to sniff the air. "It's

coming from around here. It smells like something covered over with hair gel. Yeah! Hair 

gel mixed with the smell of..." She looked right at Victor. "Hair gel mixed with bullshit! Look

everybody, it's bullshit in tailored clothes!" Jacob was nearly falling off of his seat at this point, 

laughing so hard.

_____Victor opened his mouth to say something, and he abruptly closed it. His eyebrows 

furrowed, serious. "Hey, listen. There's that sound again." He swiveled his head and looked 

around. "You hear it too, or is it just me?" It really looked as if he was trying to better hear 

something. But the early morning winds tended to carry away the sound.

_____Then Jacob stopped laughing. "What...? Yes, I hear it too. Sounds like someone 

cleaning." He stood up from the old chair. "I think it's coming from over there. Or... Hey,

what's that that?"

_____Everyone looked in the same direction. Jacob was looking farther west along this street. 

There was someone over there, someone with a rather big knife. The man stalked through the 

circles of light set by the streetlamps, revealing his appearance. He had on a black jacket and 

blue jeans, boots on his feet--black sunglasses on. In his left hand was the rather large and 

wicked-looking shiny blade. He looked ready to kill.

_____"Looks like trouble, right?" said Jacob. "I think we have to do a little work now, people.

It's what the executives pay us for." He adjusted his business jacket as so his handgun would

be easier to take out in a hurry. "Let's go earn our pay."

_____Victor and Jamie followed. The three went across the street to where that guy with the 

big shiny blade was. Getting closer, they saw that his mouth was moving. He was muttering 

something to himself as he stalked along, his shoulders and back hunched. They also noticed 

the blood. Blood dripped from his nose and ears, his eyes brimming with more of it. His 

metal hands were wet with more red wetness: His blood or someone else's. The cyborg's 

open jacket revealed more blood staining his white shirt. 

_____The Dark Stranger's eyes took on a wild, deranged look when he noticed the enforcers! 

"A-A-ARGH!" He raised the huge blade above his head and made a dead run at this group of 

enforcers, the blood from his nose spattering all over the place. Apparently, he was out of his 

mind! Looking more amused than surprised, the enforcers just stood there as this crazy nut 

with the knife rushed them.

_____"Ah, screw it," said Jamie. Putting both hands into her jacket-pockets, she drew out 

two small blocky handguns--both loaded with ceramic rounds. "I'll do him!" 

_____CRACK-CRACK! The twin sounds of her handguns rang out. "Gah..." went the Dark 

Stranger, his wild eyes swirling as he staggered. The knees of his jeans were torn away, 

revealing the damaged metal joints beneath. Sparks flared from those holes as he swayed 

and staggered right onto the street. Oddly enough, he didn't drop that huge knife.

_____On came the sudden rumbling roar of an oncoming truck. The great big vehicle was 

hard to see. Its headlights were off, and the whole damned thing was--of all things--painted 

black. It was the color of night, but as loud as daylight. 

_____ROAR! CR-R-R-UNCH! The Dark Stranger was like a big toy, flopping madly 

as three of the six wheels on the night-colored truck went over him. The night-colored truck

had rumbled on through and continued going.

_____"Whoa..." commented Jamie. She saw that truck just keep going after it had completely

ruined that guy with the knife. And the truck just kept going, roaring west along this street. 

It veered right and went around a corner. As the streetlamps went out and the sunlight lit the 

street, they could see what remained of the Dark Stranger: a mangled bloody mess of metal 

and cloth. 

_____Looking both ways to be sure that no vehicles approached, they went over to the body. 

Jacob grabbed it and began dragging it back over to the curb. "Wow, that must've hurt!" said 

Victor. 

_____"He must have had some kind of cheap body," said Jamie. "Did you see what that 

truck did to him? I mean, LOOK!" She gestured to the heap of ruined cyborg at her feet.

"I've seen accidents before, but this is probably the worst!"

_____Jacob looked at his hands. Now, in the reddish light of the oncoming morning, he saw 

that the reddish stains on his metal hands weren't blood stains. He knelt and looked at the torn-up 

leather jacket on the mangled metal body, patted it. Some kind of reddish powdery substance was 

coming out of the rents and tears of the jacket. He pinched and rubbed some of it between his 

fingers, sniffed it.

_____"What's that, Jacob?" asked Jamie. "If it's drugs, you'd better be careful. No telling 

what the Hell that guy was on. It must've made him crazy enough to rush people with handguns! 

You don't want to end up like him."

_____"Drugs, huh? I'm not sure about that..." said Jacob. He squinted his left eye and brought 

some of the powdery stuff closer to his face. The sunlight was getting brighter now, and it 

was easier to see. It was still hard to tell what the stuff was. "What the Hell is it...?" 

_____Jamie bent over to get a better look. "You mean you don't know?" She pinched a bit

of the substance from the ruined jacket. She put a dab of it on her tongue. Then she knew. 

"It's powdered blood! His jacket must have been full of it."


	9. Chapter 9: Cinnamon on The Winds

The Cinnamon Horizon

by Elliot Bowers

"She Would Die for Love"

vocal by Julee Cruise, lyrics by David Lynch, music by Angelo Badalamenti

Chapter 9: Cinnamon On The Winds

...

1.

...

_____It was several hours yet until noon. The bright morning sun had burned away the cool 

darkness of the night, and everyone was at their places of work. There were some trucks 

on the city roads, rumbling and roaring as they transported goods from and to warehouses and

factories. The buildings of this sector were warmed by the bright daylight as the people--the 

fleshies and the cyborgs--went about their work and their lives. 

_____But that was outside. The bright sun didn't shine everywhere. There were some dark 

places inside some buildings, places without windows. These dark places were usually the 

basements--underground and beneath the buildings, beneath city streets. But not all of them

were. 

...

_____This particular dark place was not a basement. It was a storage room high up in an 

executive's building. Most of the stuff here were used by the executives during meetings: 

chalk boards, video projectors, etcetera. One such display item had not been used in a while:

a mutilated cyborg, bolted to a thick metal plate, covered with a big red velvet cloth. 

_____Carbon, the mutilated cyborg, was not on display today. "Hmmph. HMMP! 

HA-HA-HA..." SNORT... Argh! He wagged his head a few times, blinked his eyes. Oh, 

his head...! It felt like someone had pumped it full of syrup! It was damned hard for him to 

have clear thoughts now--so full of pain and headache. He was either half-awake or 

half-asleep, feeling slow and dizzy all the time. Sleep and consciousness sort of ran together 

in one big mush for him to wade through while real life just seemed too blury for focusing. 

And being covered up half the time, covered over by some kind of drape-thing, didn't help 

things. Because his metal body was bolted to a huge rectangle of metal, because he was without 

arms and legs, he couldn't do a damned thing--just lie here and wait for sleep to come whenever 

it would. Which was getting easier, since his mind was decaying. The mind within the brain 

that was going wrong.

_____Put simply, he was going insane. It was a funny and frightening thing, going insane and 

knowing it. It was like a banana-colored joke mixed with a dark blue nightmare, on top of 

the green-colored ice-cream of sickening fear. "Hmmph-HMMPH!" he chortled. "Huh? 

Oh..."

_____Oh yeah, and he was hearing things. Hearing all kinds of things that could not be seen. 

Covered with this damned red-velvet cloth, Carbon would hear industrial machine sounds and

deep rumbling. He sometimes heard people laughing and giggling very faintly. And when they 

weren't laughing and giggling, he would hear the swish-swish-swish of a broom moving all 

around him. He heard wind, too. Though there were no windows in this storage room, he heard 

wind... But now, right about now, he was hearing something new. 

_____Chirp-CHIRP! Wait, he knew that sound--or thought he did. CHIRP, chirp-chirp-chirp...

He sure did, from history recordings he had heard when he was a kid! "Hmmph! Hrr-hrr..." 

he chortled, because his mind was too sluggish to produce laughter. Birds... But birds were 

extinct around here, probably everywhere. This didn't make any damned sense. 

_____Since when did hallucinations have to make sense? "Hrr-hrr-hrr..." chuffed Carbon, 

letting himself be overcome with all the strange sounds filling his mind as sleep once again 

closed over his mind--all the funny bird sounds all around him, mixed up with the sounds of

the broom and the laughter of unseen people. 

...

_____"Hey, we've got maintenance to do on the infrastructure," said the cyborg with the 

moustache. He had on yellow coveralls and a red shirt, a red metal toolbox gripped in his 

left metal hand. Behind him were five other men in similar-looking outfits: yellow coveralls 

and red shirts, all of them with toolboxes. "We are a little late, but we were called in on short 

notice."

_____The blonde-haired receptionist-lady looked through some sheaves of paper: memos. 

"Just a minute, sir," she said. "I know I've seen your authorization somewhere in here... Ah, 

here it is!" She held up one half-sheet of typewritten paper.

_____According to this memo, the normal maintenance crew was all out for the day. They 

didn't call in or anything, but a backup crew would be in. She reread this memo and looked 

up at the mustached cyborg and his crew.

_____"So you must be the temporary maintenance personnel," she said. "Well why didn't you 

say so?" She spun around in her chair and spoke to the group of huge security guards at the 

elevators--cyborgs in white shirts and dress-slacks. "Hey guys, this is the backup work crew. 

It looks like they're okay..." One of the huge guards over there shrugged. If the secretary 

said they were okay, then they were okay. 

_____The group of cyborgs in yellow coveralls was allowed to get on the elevator, smiling as 

they went. Hmmph, that was funny... Since when do maintenance people smile on their way 

to work? Maybe they were just happy for better work. Yeah, that had to be it; that had to be

why they smiled.

_____Once that group went up in the elevator, another security guard came into this lobby. His

hard shoes made hard sounds as he walked across the vast marble floor. A nod to the secretary,

and he stepped up to the elevator guards. "Ken, we found some...things in the alley, just so 

you know."

_____"What, more crack-heads?" responded the elevator guard named Ken. "You know how 

it gets near the end of the week. They just can't keep themselves under control. Always smokin' 

or poppin' some kinda cheap shit that kills 'em."

_____The guard from the outside shook his head. "No. It's a Hell of a lot worse than that."

He took a step closer and lowered his voice. "We've found about six bodies in the alley, all

of them fleshies. Six, you hear me? SIX. A real mess, blood and stuff everywhere. They were, 

like...mutilated. And their heads are missing, too." 

...

_____Up in one of the main buildings of the Society, there was a meeting scheduled to happen.

It was the meeting room with wood-paneled walls (REAL wood, not the chemically synthesized 

kind), thick carpet and a long shiny black table. Everyone had comfortable seats here. Though 

there were several top executives of Feng-Long here, most of the people at this long marble 

table were just local managers: trucking foremen, shop-keepers, maintenance managers, those 

sorts of things. They were just having idle chatter now, but the real meeting would not start 

until one key executive showed up. She was usually very early for meetings like this. Was 

something holding her up?

_____Just as the clocks and watches hit the hour mark, the double doors opened up--having 

been opened by the guards. And in came the elegant, dark-clad female executive everyone 

was waiting for: Miss Patsun. She quickly stepped through the door--a dark suitcase in her left 

hand. Standing at the head of the table, Miss Patsun addressed everyone. "I apologize for my 

abrupt and terse manner," she said. "There was a last-minute need to acquire something within 

my...office.." A pained expression crossed her face, and she brought her right hand to her 

forehead. Her throat flexed as she gulped air, swaying a little on her feet. She dropped her

suitcase.

_____Some people put their hands on the table, looking ready to get up and run forward to 

catch her in case she fell. But Miss Patsun did not fall. She just blinked her dark eyes and sat 

down in the grand seat at the head of the table. She then leaned to the left to get her suitcase 

up off of the floor--setting it atop the table. "No... There is no need for worry. It was just a 

slight headache." A rare smile came to her face, making her look prettier. "Truly, physical 

pain is a part of us all. It comes with being human...or cyborg. Whichever the case may be."

_____Looks of tensed worry became replaced nervous grins all around the table. Medical 

technology around here was good enough to help and replace sick body parts, but damaged 

brains were a totally different--much more difficult--matter. This wasn't like the old days 

of centuries past, when physicians with scanning machines and nanotechnology could 

practically bring people back from the dead. If Miss Patsun was to fall sick during the meeting...

_____"Well friends," began the elegant female executive, sitting at the head of the table. "I 

welcome you all. You all have very busy schedules, normally, so it must have been an especially 

large inconvenience for you all to gather here." She paused, sniffed. "I now open the table

to any introductory points of discussion."

_____"Hmm, yeah... Thank ya, Miss Patsun," said a burly man at the right side of the table, 

a trucking manager. "First I just wanted to tell ya that yer enforcers are doin' a good job for

us by keeping out the bounty hunters. Ya always do good. That brings me to the next point I

wanna talk about, the traffic accidents. See, normally, almost nobody gets hits by trucks. 

My drivers are very careful. But people are gettin' lazy an' careless..." He paused, waiting 

for interruptions. There were none. "There were eighteen percent more accidents last week,

though. I can't identify the drivers responsible, and I don't know the circumstances. Still, 

people have gotta BE MORE CAREFUL!"

_____Miss Patsun nodded. "Thank you for that point. Traffic safety... It shall be noted. 

Are there any other points to introduce? Pertaining to traffic safety or any related issues? For

example, suggested changes in enforcer actions?" She sniffed the air again, smiled. What was 

that sweet smell? Smiling, she asked, "Did anyone eat a great deal of candy recently?" 

...

_____HEE-HEE-HEE...! In the storage room, Carbon was giggling madly to himself. Limbless 

and mutilated, his mind was beginning to match the condition of his metal body! Losing...his...

fucking...MIND! "HEE-HEE-HEE!" he went, his voice muffled by the red cloth that covered 

him. THEY were here. THEY were whispering and chattering louder now, the people that 

could not be seen. "Hee-hee-hee...!" SNORT! "Yeah, I can laugh right along with y'all! 

HEE-HEE-HEE...!"

_____All around here... Yeah, THEY were here--all around here. He couldn't see them, because

the draping red cloth covered him from head to toe. Wait... What the fuck? HEAD TO TOE?

Well, it WOULD have covered his toes. But his toes were gone, and so were his fingers. Fuck 

that, so were his hands and feet! Both damned arms and legs were gone too! HEE-HEE-HEE!

_____Head to toe! Get it, GET IT? Head to toe, but he HAD NO TOES! Carbon laughed 

to himself at the thought. It was just so damned silly right now! HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE...!

His tank-bellied metal torso quivered as he giggled and guffawed.

_____The distant laughter from the unseen people became just a little louder, and the whispering

became a low chatter. Somewhere, in the corner of Carbon's mind, there was just a little bit of 

coherent sanity left. That little bit of sanity was scared to death and quivering with fear. 

_____Nobody believed in ghosts or monsters or crazy shit like that... When it was all bright 

and sunny outside, people laughed and joked about the scary things that supposedly lived in 

basements and in the darkness. And there were no such things as space-aliens! That was 

the stuff of scary stories little kids told each other and the stuff put in those old cheezy horror 

movies! But when the sun dipped below the horizon, or when there was darkness all around,

the sound of wind blowing through dark rooms, ideas like that suddenly became a lot more 

believable. 

_____Bzzt! Flicker... Flick-flick! The dim storage room lights blinked and winked before 

becoming even dimmer. There was a WHOOSH and a rush of air as the draping cloth was 

whipped off of him. It revealed the tank-bellied former enforcer in all his mutilated glory--bolted 

down and giggling madly. Hee-hee... Huh? A gust of air must have whipped off the cloth that 

covered him up. 

_____Carbon saw who had taken off the cloth. A strange look came across his face, but he 

was still giggling. "Hee-hee! Well, it's about TIME you got here! Hee-hee-hee! Been 

WAITIN' for you, friend! Yes indeed! Been waitin' for the longest time. You done got 

both my friends somehow. It's about time you came for...me. Hee hee... I was gettin' SO 

TIRED. Maybe you can fix the damned lights, too."

_____The Janitor was here: blue coveralls, work shirt, and blue cap on his head--the bill of 

the cap shadowing and hiding his face. The wide brush of his broom rested lightly on the 

floor, long wooden handle in his left hand. He leaned slowly forward, bringing his shadowed

face closer to Carbon's amidst the flickering lights.

_____"Hee-hee-hee..." giggled Carbon. Then he stopped giggling, stopped breathing. The

Janitor's right hand went to his own cap, and his fingers closed over the stiffened brim. He 

slowly pulled off his hat, and the shadow over his face came away. Even by the flickering

light, Carbon could see the true face of the Janitor.

_____"AA-A-AGH!" screamed Carbon! "I see...my-self! I see myself! I...SEE...MYSELF!" 

Though the Janitor's face was leaner, it had all the same features. The eyes, the jaw, the 

cheeks... The whole damned look...! It was as if Carbon was looking into a kind of real-life, 

super high-performance mirror. Carbon let loose with one more scream as the Janitor's strong 

hands closed over his head. 

...

_____The entire meeting room shook as a massive explosion ROCKED the building. Everyone 

was knocked out of their seats. Miss Patsun did not bother to get up from the floor. Her 

small sounds of pain were lost in the ensuing confusion and chaos. Everything was shaking 

and seeming to tilt! People shouted and yelled, trying to stand up as the room moved. Miss 

Patsun had fallen unconscious from the sharp headache that penetrated her brain. She was 

lucky; she wouldn't feel her body being broken and crushed.

...

_____From down the street, that group in yellow coveralls and red shirts watched the Feng-Long

building go down. They saw the big flaming blast that consumed the first few floors of the 

building and all the smaller structures nearby. It was like watching demolition, except with an 

otherwise perfectly good building. And like demolition, the whole thing collapsed in a gigantic

cloud of dust and rumbling destruction. 

_____There were screams after as panicking pedestrians ran around. Most people ran away,

but some in dark suits and black sunglasses went running TOWARDS the chaos. The dust

cloud was spreading and coming in this direction, along with an entire crowd of pedestrians,

_____But the group in yellow coveralls and red shirts just stood there. Zalem's master computer 

would pay them PLENTY for doing that, and they didn't even have to bring in heads! One of 

the guys in yellow coveralls dropped dead as the dust cloud came over here, covering everything. 

There was no particular reason why he dropped dead. Maybe his artificial lungs couldn't handle 

the dust. Or maybe something inside his chest had just shut down. But there he was, dead on 

the sidewalk. The rest of his group didn't notice in all the dust and grit; they were too busy listening

to the sounds of chaos and confusion.

_____And they sure as Hell didn't notice the one in blue coveralls. How could they, as the 

smoke was so thick now and the coughing crowd running around? Within the dust cloud, the

Janitor clutched both of his big coverall pockets--both of them squirming. He didn't care if the

one in his left pocket got out, but he put a harder grip on the struggling lump in his right. And

as he stepped out of reality, he had on a warm smile. 

...

2.

...

_____Later, after the chaos, eight enforcers stood in a row along this sidewalk, their weapons 

drawn. There were four male enforcers, and four females. Most of them were looking neater 

than usual, their suits looking extra-starched and pressed. But three here looked ruined. Their 

clothes were dusty and torn in places. One guy had a piece of white cloth wrapped around half

of his head as so it covered part of his synthetic face--covering up the damage. The jacket on 

that side of his body was a little ripped, exposing a slightly dented metal arm. He stood here 

with his fellow enforcers, ready to do this thing--ready to execute some bounty hunters. 

_____The six bounty hunters were wrapped in hefty chains and stood up in the street. Even 

the cute blonde hunter-girl had a mummy's wrapping of chainwork around and around her 

petite metal self. Like everyone else, her head was left exposed above the chains. This damned 

setup made her feel like some kind of demented farm-vegetable, stuck in something with only 

the top-part exposed. At least the gunshot hole in her metal abdomen wasn't hurting now.

_____She audibly sniffed, blinked her big blue eyes. Tears fell... "Don't start cryin', bitch," 

said the tall male bound to her left. "What, you scared of dying?" He looked over at the 

enforcers standing on the sidewalk. "Why the Hell did you become a bounty hunter if you 

were such a sissy?"

_____"Don't be stupid! It's not THAT!" she yelled, glancing over at the enforcers. They didn't 

react to her outburst. "It's... It's not FAIR! I tried my best. I was careful. But they had those 

damned GUNS and shot me! Now they're just gonna finish us off!" 

_____The bigger bounty hunter rolled his eyes. "Yeah, so?" After he said that, the back of 

his head suddenly sprayed a gray-and-red explosion of chunky wetness. Then he wasn't able 

to say anything else. The jagged metal hole continued to pour blood. 

_____"AAIGH!" shrieked the hunter-girl, struggling with the chains. This was not a shriek of 

fear; they were shrieks of FRUSTRATION. She was angry, damned PISSED OFF! This 

really WASN'T FAIR! 

_____She had a fierce grimace on her face as she strained and struggled as the blocky handguns 

went CRACK-CRACK-CRACK all around and the other bounty hunters died when their head 

seemed to explode. There was blood and brains splashing everywhere, the metal neck-stumps 

spraying up blood like grotesque fountains.

_____Blood and little chunks of brain splashed all onto her angry young face and blonde hair as 

she kept angrily struggling. Though there was already a gunshot hole in her abdomen from being 

captured, though it burned and sparked, she still kept fighting. She wanted to KILL those fuckers 

with the handguns. All of them were CRIMINALS!

_____CRACK! One more shot, and there were no more. The petite bounty hunter looked

to her left. That hunter was headless now, just a metal neck-stump above the wrapping of

chains--blood jetting up as the electromechainical body tried pumping blood to the head that 

wasn't there. To her right, she saw everyone else: decapitated with shots. More blood poured 

out from their neck-stumps. She looked over to the enforcers, that group in the pretentious dark 

businesswear. 

_____Why? The girl looked surprised for a full second. Then came the anger again. "HEY! 

Why don't you fucking SHOOT ME! Come on! Rr-r-gh... SHOOT...ME! Right here! You 

can do it!" She opened her mouth for a second, as if read to swallow bullets. "Yeah, RIGHT 

IN HERE, BIG BOY! I'm talkin' to YOU, cyclops!"

_____One of the enforcers walked over to here, the one with the cloth wrapped over one eye.

He holstered his gun and put his left foot on the mound of chains that held the petite cyborg-girl. 

"You know? Did anyone ever tell you how cute you are when you're angry? No? How about 

them telling you how much of a brat you are?" He patted her once on the cheek, and she 

snapped at him. "Ooh! Sharp teeth! Guess I'd better leave you alone, kid..." 

_____Before she knew it, he had holstered his handgun and walked away. Just walked away!

All of them did, the other enforcers. They were not going to shoot her after all. Their plan

was to just leave her here, in the middle of the damned road, in the middle of the afternoon. 

All the other bounty hunters were really dead, their heads and brains all blasted. Damn...

_____"Maybe you're too much of a PUNK to shoot a GIRL!" she screamed. Her high-pitched 

voice echoedoff the fronts of the short buildings nearby. "Yeah, so COME BACK HERE and 

PROVE HOW TOUGH YOU ARE!" Her voice echoed among the buildings before fading up 

to the bright blue sky overhead. 

_____Then came the bystanders. They came from nowhere and everywhere, out of their 

hiding places. Some had emerged from buildings, walking out the front doors. Some more 

people came from the alleys and from around the corners. There was soon a crowd as all of 

the local inhabitants of the city came out. They were interested in the scene on the street. So 

these were some of the bounty hunters from outside...

_____"Criminals! We'll have your heads for this!" screamed the girl in chains. "When

the big computer up in Zalem hears about this, there'll be Hell to pay! You hear me? Lots

of bounty hunters are coming already. Lots and LOTS of them... All of your heads are 

gonna be chopped off and cashed in! How do you like THAT, huh?" She nodded, because

that was about all the movement she could make. "Ye-e-ah...! Just you all wait."

_____The crowd just stood there, standing on the sidewalks. People mumbled and chattered 

to each other as they glanced over at the girl, her face and hair all bloody and angry. She looked

like a cute little monster, ready to kill, surrounded by headless bounty hunters in chains! 

_____Meanwhile, she would just be the object of curiosity for these gawking fools. They were

afraid of the bounty hunters, sure. But not too afraid now! All of those rumors about hunters 

not using guns was true. Zalem must be a really fucked-up place, not letting its hunters here 

on the ground use guns.

_____The girl laughed and continued to insult the crowd. Then came the pain. The gunshot 

in her metal abdomen, shot when she was captured... It was really beginning to hurt. All of her 

struggling and screaming had agitated the damage. First, it was a sharp ache. Then the ache 

became hot and burning as electrical connections within her electromechanical body heated up. 

The pain began to spread down her legs and up her chest. She began to scream.

_____So she was not aware of what was coming. There was a distant rumbling roar that

was coming closer, coming along this road. It was a rather huge truck, the color of the night 

sky. Damn, even the windows were dark-tinged. It was really hard to see the driver... 

_____R-R-RUMBLE...! The big loud truck had flames coming out of the huge exhaust pipes 

as it ran over the chained-up bounty hunters in the street. And if they weren't all dead before, 

they sure were now! Blood and metal body parts were all over the street, broken chain-links 

scattered about.

_____And that big black truck just kept going, big and loud, the flames and smoke roaring out 

of its pipes. There was a screech of tires as it made a fast and dangerous turn right at the next

corner--a screeching that sounded like a chorus in pain. No one saw the truck after that. 

...

_____An hour ago, everything down here was shaken with a rumbling roar. Small bits of 

ceiling tile had flaked down on all the equipment and all on the floor. Luckily, the electricity

had only flickered for some seconds. After that, everyone had coughing fits for a while until

the air filter could strain most all of the dust out of the computer lab's air. Well, everyone but

Lissette had their coughing fits until the air was clear. 

_____She had stayed in the computer lab after the presumed earthquake, using a broom and 

dustpan to clean up. Everyone else helped after the air wasn't so clouded with dust, using 

damp rags and air-blowers to clean off the equipment. 

_____They then went back to work, hacking the Network and maintaining the disconnection

between this sector and Zalem. It was not until an hour later that they found out what had really 

happened. An enforcer had made an extremely rare visit to a computer lab--this computer lab. 

He told everyone here what had happened up on the surface. 

_____Since the artificial and accidental disasters of a few centuries back, there really hadn't 

been earthquakes. The shake-up turned out to be something else: the destruction of a 

Feng-Long building. Half of the people in the structure, cyborgs, managed to survive. Their 

bodies would need extensive repairs. But all the "fleshies"--the full-humans--were dead. That 

included all three of the high-ranking Feng-Long executives who were in the building at the time.

_____That included Miss Patsun. Hearing this, Jake stopped typing and just stared at his 

computer screen. Sudden tears splashed down from Kela's gold-colored eyes and wetted 

spots on the freshly swept floor. Sam bit one of his hammy fists and looked away. Lissette 

reacted the strongest: She practically jumped up from her swivel-seat, her long dark hair 

streaming like a war-banner. 

_____YOU LYING BASTARD, she had shouted, her dark eyes angry. As she had earlier

changed into shorts and a sleeveless blouse, one could see the musculature of her legs and 

slim arms tense up. Though the enforcer's dark glasses seemed to hide his expression, he did 

look a bit frightened by the girl--though she was at least a foot shorter and a hundred pounds 

lighter than himself.

_____Sam had disarmed the situation. He thanked the enforcer for being the bearer of that 

really bad news, and--hand around the shoulder--he guided the dark-suited cyborg out of the 

computer lab as Lissette's dark angry eyes glared on. Get OUT, you LIAR! Get out! She

collapsed to her knees after the screaming fit. The enforcer would not lie about something of 

that magnitude; she knew it.

_____Since then, everyone had calmed down. Jake hadn't chuckled for a while, but he was 

still at his workstation--looking for new ways to hack Zalem's computers. Sitting at the 

machine next to Sam's, Kela only sniffled once in a while. 

_____Lissette decided to check the multi-colored wires that connected the machines of the 

lab to the cabinet-sized server-computer against the wall. While she was at it, she also checked 

the status of the huge machine itself--a toolkit on the floor while she sat behind there with all 

the little flickering green status lights. Hmm... 

_____She built this machine herself, from various bits of computer hardware scavanged 

from old offices and bodies of Deckmen: She would know if anything was wrong or knocked

out of place. Shouldn't be, really. The hardware was simple, but very rugged. And if there

were any screwed-up connections, there would be little yellow lights instead of green.

_____Nothing looked wrong. BZZT-thud! "Ow!" In surprise, she had jerked back her head, 

bumping it into the cinderblock wall near her back. BZZT...flicker-flicker! The lights in the 

computer lab went low and ALL the status lights behind the server went yellow. Then, some

sort of shadowy mist began to cover over everything.

_____Oh no, she thought. Is this some kind of toxic leak? While everything was going dark,

she scrambled out from behind the huge computer...and fell down. She couldn't move...and 

her body felt numb. Everything was getting so dark now.

...

_____...It was always dark all around here, which was normal for this place. There were 

blazingly bright spotlights for illumination here, which was also normal--for now. But, to say 

that anything here was "normal" was like saying that the night sky was "bright" with stars.

_____One blazingly bright spotlight shone down on a polished wooden table, two seats placed

here. On one seat was a pile of sand. The wind here blew around some of the grains, but the 

pile of sand remained intact and whole. Hell, the way it was set at the table, a person would 

think that the sand was a guest!

_____Sitting opposite the pile of sand was the Janitor, enjoying a very large bowl of 

cinnamon oatmeal. He had his had off, and his face still looked damned familiar. His left hand 

on his stomach, his right hand did the work of scooping up the oatmeal and bringing it to his 

mouth. The bowl really was big; the damned thing must have been six times the size of anyone's 

stomach. But he just kept eating and eating that cinnamon oatmeal... Ah-h-h, how delicious... 

But who was screaming in the distance?

_____The other spotlight here shone down on the platinum-haired Dream Woman, standing 

atop the other wooden table. Her red silk dress was tight over her slender and cream-pale body,

covering her from shoulders to ankles--a long slit exposing one of her legs from the thigh down. 

A lazy, hypnotic sound of music began to play from somewhere in the darkness, and

the Dream Woman closed her eyes. She began to sing in slow accompaniment to the tune.

SHE said, she wouldn't stay

SHE said, she couldn't stay

She told me, she would die... for love...

She said, she would GO someday

She said, she would GO AWAY!

She to-o-old me.. she would die-e-e for love...

Don't you think...HE knows

Don't you think... HE cares

Don't you think...HE dr-r-eams

Don't you think...he CRIES?

She said, she would run away!

She said she would FLY away

She to-o-old me she would die for love...

Don't you think...HE knows

Don't you think...HE cares

Don't you think HE DREAMS

Don't you think...HE CRIES?

_____After that, the music faded as the Dream Woman swayed atop the table--her hands 

clasped under her chin. Then came the sickening darkness again as everything faded off. 

The spotlights turned off, and everything seemed to be going away... 

...

_____Lissette sat up, then got up from the floor. The last remnants of numbness were fading

from her body. She felt a little shaky. Other than that, she was feeling fine. Looking around, 

she saw that everyone else was just stirring to their senses: Sam on the floor, Jake slumped at 

his workstation. Kela was slumped back in her seat--her head back and her straight purple hair 

hanging straight down. 

_____"Whoa-a-a... Why do I feel like I've been hit by a truck?" mumbled Sam, sitting up

on the floor and clutching his balding head. "I just had this really whacked-out dream." 

Lissette came over and helped the big chubby man to his feet. "Thanks, Lissette... Somebody 

remind me to never again fool around with cheap tomato juice mixed in expensive rum!"

_____Kela sat up in her seat and leaned forward, her fine fingers at her forehead. Her odd-gold

eyes were clenched shut. "Ow-w-w... Sam, did you say something about a...dream?" she

said, eyes still shut. "'Cause that dream must have really messed up my head--along with 

that weird shadow-smoke stuff." Jake just chuckled, though his eyes squinted in pain from 

the headache he had.

_____"Yeah..." answered Sam. "Some dream about a really pale girl in a slinky red dress. She 

was singing backwards or something. Damn... My head hurts just THINKING about it." He

staggered over to one of the side-doors. "I'm going to get some water from the side-room to

splash on my face..and maybe, after that, I'll throw up in the toilet."

_____As Sam stepped through the side-door, Lissette looked at everyone else here. Something

really weird had just happened. It had affected everyone else the same way, except for her.

Lissette was reminded again that she was...different. Though she looked and seemed like 

everyone else, she WASN'T like everyone else. 

_____No, she didn't want to think about that right now. She didn't even want to know what

made everyone go unconscious, didn't even talk about it. So she again busied herself by 

checking the server while everyone recovered from their headaches. The past few minutes of 

unconsciousness had been a blank for her. She did not dream. 

...

3.

... 

_____Sera was sitting at the bar, and the female bartender was slowly preparing drinks. The 

red-haired cyborg and the fleshie seemed to be the only two people in here: no one was at the 

tables, and no one else was seated at this bar. It seemed very lonely and quiet here, even after 

what had happened several miles away.

_____The red-haired young cyborg was unsure exactly why she was drawn to this bar. It was 

like plenty of other drinking spots in this trendy downtown area. Executives of the Society drank

and dined out often--restaurants, bars and cafes--so there were lots of places to get drinks.

Still, why here, with all the other places? 

_____Maybe Sera was drawn to this particular drinking spot because the bartender was young

and female, a rarity. Bartenders were most all older men or cyborgs, gruff and old, not young 

and pretty girls. And Sera thought the bartender was very pretty in her own way: slender 

figure, sparkling green eyes, and blonde hair. Nice clothes too--dark leggings and white 

blouse, a black vest fastened over her flat abdomen and pert breasts. The bartender's big

pretty eyes always seemed to sparkle with some kind of inner amusement. Other than the 

color of the eyes and hair, the bartender reminded Sera of how she had been once. 

_____Sera's day-purse hung at her left elbow, still with plenty of credit-chips to spend on 

drinks. Aw, what the Hell. Miss Patsun didn't have anything for her to do today. Sera was

making a lot more money these days, not that it mattered much. She didn't spend much on 

clothes, her new apartment's rent took little out of her pay, and she did not need too much 

food: just enough to keep her brain alive. Right now, she was fully intent on soaking her 

brain in as much alcohol as it would tolerate before she sank into the dark and warm depths 

of blissful unconsciousness.

_____Not drunk yet, but she felt herself getting there. The drinks given by the bartender so 

far already made Sera feel as if she was floating in some kind of pleasantly warm and 

invisible ocean. And the day felt like one big, long, tired blur. All of her problems were far 

away as she just drifted away on her own ocean of intoxication away from the shores of 

reality--away from all her troubles. Wait... What troubles? 

_____Good, she was forgetting already. All of her stresses and worries were gently wafting 

away for now. Her lips slowly spread in a big lazy smile, feeling really good. Not just good,

but GO-O-OOD. The bartender smiled right along with her and poured another red drink 

from a red bottle.

_____"W-w-wow-w-w!" slurred Sera, sipping some more stuff in the mug. "Th-this is 

DAMNED good sh-stuff! Wha-wha... WHOOPS! Ha-ha-ha..." She nearly fell off of her 

high stool. "H-hey, I th-think I've had this...stuff somewhere before..." Her dark eyes 

squinted as she seemed to strain her memory. "But where? It's damned good."

_____The pretty bartender nodded. "Ha-ha-ha...! You have tasted the red drink before, 

but not in that style," she said, raising the bottle of red liquid. "Many people have drunk it. 

Yet they cannot liquefy it. The key ingredient is..." She smiled. "It's what I like to call 

cinnamon, though you would call it something else. Ha-ha-ha!"

_____Sera looked dumbstruck for a moment, her mouth hung open. "R-R-REALLY! Why

the HELL didn't you SAY s-so? Ha-ha-ha...!" She tried to say a whole bunch of other things 

after that. Her thoughts became slurry and blurry, and all the words came out sounding 

wrong and backwards. It was harder to say anything or to put coherent words together.

_____FWOOSH... The bar door had been flung opened. In walked a mixed-up group of at 

least six cyborgs--big and short, male and female--all wearing the same kind of outfit. They 

all had yellow coveralls and red shirts. Laughing and joking, they were very happy about 

what had happened an hour ago. "Hey bartender-bitch!" shouted one of the males. "We're 

here to CELEBRATE!" 

_____All six came over here and sat themselves down, putting their elbows on the polished 

surface for drinks. The obnoxious male sat right next to Sera, who gave him a lost look. 

"What're YOU looking at? Anyway... Bartender, give us whatever you criminals drink in 

this sector. And if you can get us all drunk within the next fifteen minutes, maybe we won't 

cut off that cute head of yours and sell it." 

_____They're bounty hunters, thought Sera as her pleasant alcoholic lethargy was burned 

away. Feeling the anger, components within her body rapidly processed the intoxicating 

chemicals out of her blood and injected adrenaline into her brain. Something was going to 

happen. 

_____The obnoxious bounty hunter winked. "Or maybe we'll just have a little grown-up fun 

with you first." All the newcomers, male and female, guffawed and laughed at that one--as if 

it was one of the funniest jokes in the world. "I don't have the uh...TOOL for what I want to 

do, but I'll think of something! Like the way my buddies... Guh!" One of the female bounty 

hunters had elbowed him--hard. 

_____The bartender smiled. "You will think of something. You always do." She gave the 

obnoxious male bounty hunter a wink as she brought her own delicate fingers to the dark

buttons of the vest over her blouse. Giving him a pouty look, she asked, "Is this what you 

want? Hmm?"

_____Someone else at the bar whistled and cheered. Saying, "Hell YEAH, babe! Show us 

those cute tits of yours! YOW!" Then the male bounty hunters began slapping the table and 

making all kinds of animal noises as the female bartender began to sway her firm hips and 

fondle the buttons of her vest. 

_____She then climbed atop the bar and continued her little dance, stepping out of her little 

black shoes. She then unbuttoned her vest, dropped it to the bar-top. Next came the blouse... 

And off came the leggings. Before Sera knew it, the pretty dancing bartender-girl was down 

to bra and panties, beginning to make herself completely naked. She really was lithe and 

beautiful, her smooth creamy body as fair as her little silk underwear, beautiful all over. Such

a beautiful body. Sera wasn't attracted to women, but even she was beginning to feel interested. 

The room began to heat up, wind began to blow, and then came an awful headache that brought 

darkness over her.

... 

_____The next thing she knew, she was lying on the floor. That headache of hers was fading

as laughter went off into the distance. Someone was laughing in the distance... The laughter 

floated on the wind, the wind that blew in through the blown-open windows and the absolutely

blasted doorway. There was broken glass everywhere. But that wasn't the only mess.

_____Sera sat up, stood up, and saw the awful bloody mess. She had seen carnage before,

random violence being a fact of life here in the city, but this was probably the most gruesome. 

There was congealing blood and miscellaneous body fluids soaking the top of every surface 

here. But the worst of the blood was pooled around the body parts. That was it: parts. There 

was not a single intact body in here except her own. 

_____Her footwear crunched on bloody glass as she looked around this place. Metal arms 

and legs were on top of tables and onto the floor, as if violently RIPPED off and tossed like 

junk. Metal torsos were smashed and split, which explained the blood and oil. Wet and 

bloody parts were put next to yet more wet and bloody body parts--parts that were supposed 

to be INSIDE rather than OUTSIDE. The clothes were torn to rags and put in piles, soaking 

up more blood and fluids. There was just...so...much...blood....

_____The bartender-girl! What had happened to her? Suddenly numb and sick with worry,

Sera looked towards the bar--expecting more of a mess. The bartender's clothes were still 

there, strangely dry and still fresh-looking: not torn or damaged at all. Even the little silk 

underthings were unstained by what soaked everything else. The black shoes and leggings, 

the white blouse and vest, they were free of blood as well.

_____Something was very wrong here. Feeling even more sick, Sera walked around the 

bar and looked for the female bartender's body--which was not here. All the body parts were 

cyborg. And...

_____She found heads behind the drinking bar itself. Dead heads, six in a row, their shocked

faces looking like grotesque interior decorations. The tops of their skulls were all opened up, 

synthetic scalps and metal skulls peeled open like food-cans: the ruined, red-stained brains 

exposed. But the worse was the spoons, when she noticed the spoons… 

_____There were rusty metal spoons dipped deep into each of those opened skulls, which

explained why the brains were ruined. Did the bartender somehow...? "Uh-h-h..." moaned 

the female cyborg, feeling a wave of sickness come over her. She staggered back from the 

sight, her metal legs unsteady.

_____With the dead eyes staring in her direction, she slipped and fell backward. Then she 

scrambled to her feet and got out of the bar as fast as she could, somehow remembering her 

little day-purse. She left bloody footprints along the sidewalk as she ran off unsteadily. She 

had to tell someone about what happened here, maybe Miss Patsun herself! 

...

_____The sun continued to heat the city air as the day grew late--the sunlight going from 

high-noon to the richer golden tone of later afternoon. By the time Sera walked up to this 

streetcorner, her sickness and fear had already begun to fade. It was just that she saw all of 

that mess, all of that blood. She wasn't sure why she reacted that way. That was not the first 

time she had seen bloody messes in her life. Random and extremely bloody violence was just 

a part of everyday living these days, she kept telling herself. Just part of life. There was 

nothing shocking or outrageous about it. She thought this, putting her scrambled thoughts 

together, as she waited for it to be safe enough to cross the street. 

_____Hmm, there were a lot of cars on the road--and even more trucks. Which was unusual,

since most of the factories were still producing. There shouldn't be so much shipping happening

this time of day. Sera waited for there to be fewer trucks and cars before she quickly made her 

way across the street. Miss Patsun's office building should be around that corner--where all 

the trucks were coming from... 

_____A group of workers came from around the corner, pushing three large metal carts along 

this sidewalk. Sera slowed her pace as she approached, not wanting to be in the way. There 

were just so many of them, the workers--at least six. Was there some kind of construction 

going on? When the group of workers was close, she had a chance to ask.

_____"Hey guys. What's going on?" she said to the approaching half-dozen workers in red 

work-gear--their clothes all dusted with concrete. "It looks like..." THUMP! "OW! Watch 

it! You almost knocked me into the street!" Indeed, one of them almost had, having made 

her stagger.

_____The rest of the group stopped. "Heh-heh... Oh, I'm SORRY!" said the one who had 

shouldered Sera. "I DID? Maybe I should try a little HARDER! Heh-heh-heh..." He then

raised his hands and gave her a hard SHOVE--hitting her in the chest. 

_____"What!" she shouted when she fell backward, landing on her elbows. She quickly 

stood again and quickly brushed some hair away from her face. "HEY! I just asked a simple 

question! What the HELL is your problem, huh? Look, I just had a really bad day too. But 

I'm not going around and being rude!"

_____"Shut up, dumb criminal bitch!" shouted another one. "Aw, fuck it. Let's take her to 

the alley so we can get another head without any damned problems. Besides, most of the 

heads we've go so far are all fucked up from the building collapse." He pulled a thick-looking 

blade from under his work-shirt. "Yeah, nobody's looking..." 

_____Grinning, someone else stepped closer--a long blade appearing in his left hand as if

by magic. Uh-oh... She had only learned how to fight unarmed opponents. And when she 

did, there were always lots of other enforcers around to finish the job with guns. There were 

just too many of them right now. So she turned and ran. 

_____"AAH-HA-HA-HA!" they laughed. Their laughter at her back, she dashed back to the 

previous streetcorner. The traffic...! She skidded to a halt, her machine-made footwear smoking 

as she stopped. Stumbling, she tried to turn right and run some more when a metal hand grabbed 

her arm.

_____"Damn, you can't run for SHIT, honey!" said the one with the thick blade. He had Sera 

by an arm and was trying to drag her away. She struggled and pulled against his hold on her. 

"Now let's go where we can be alone. Don't worry, it won't hurt...for long. I'll do you quick!

Just a pain in the neck, and it'll all be over soon after that." 

_____And then he was kneeling on the concrete, one of his knees bent the completely wrong

way. It had happened so fast that it didn't seem to happen at all! Sera had lashed out with a

very fast low-kick right at the bounty hunter's right knee--breaking it backward. He didn't 

even see the blow coming.

_____He then felt himself knocked away, flapping along the sidewalk as the world seemed 

to go around-and-around-and-around. Damn, he was feeling funny. No, wait... It was just

his HEAD that was knocked away! Aw, shit...he tried to say, but he had no lungs. And 

those were his last thoughts as he passed into the laughing darkness of death.

_____Sera took the thick-looking knife from the headless corpse. Then, all kinds of dark

thoughts came into her mind. All this time, she had fought without weapons. She now felt

that she could have a LOT of fun with this thing. And there were some willing volunteers right 

around the corner.

_____One of the bounty hunters had come around to see what was taking Jack so long. THUNK!

He then lost his balance as he hit his right ankle on something. Looking down, the hunter saw 

that he had actually lost his whole right foot--cut off by that red-haired bitch! Kneeling, she 

tossed the severed metal body part at his face--a distraction as she dashed past him, a 

red-haired gray blur. A sudden line in his metal abdomen spurted blood and cooling fluids...

He fell to the sidewalk and bled to death before he realized what had happened.

_____"Damn, she's QUICK!" said one of the four remaining bounty hunters, standing by the

three carts. They all took out various blades and staffs and began their approach. "You just

stay still for a second, cutie... Yeah... Just like that!" Then that one ran at her, his long solid 

fighting staff poised for a STRIKE! 

_____Swish-CRACK! It was a hit that managed to knock a deep chunk out of the hard 

tan-colored sidewalk. There was a rushing blur again, then he found that he couldn't move 

his arms. He leaned back from his missed attack, and his metal arms fell off. He opened his 

mouth to speak, then felt his words snatched by a sudden gust of wind as something tapped his

neck. His head fell off of his body... The other three bounty hunters were just as easy.

...

_____Sera was on her knees when it was over, leaning against the wall--her metal body 

heated from the overdrive exertions. The blade in her hand had snapped during the fighting.

Now it was chipped and damaged. But the fighting... That had felt good. Sera's brain was

awash in the lingering sweet pleasure from what had just happened. No wonder why there 

were so many cyborg bounty hunters; they must like their jobs. 

_____And she was surprised when she suddenly threw up. Her artificial digestive system had 

reacted more intensely than a real one would. Luckily, all that came up was some very dark 

fluid, mixed with the blood on the sidewalk. Wiping her synthetic mouth with the back of a 

solid hand, she stood up and looked at the short little blade she had taken from the bounty 

hunter. Something was happening to her. 

_____Back at the bar, it really wasn't all sickness that made her run away. The waves of 

dizziness that had overcome her back there, it wasn't really all nausea. It was pleasure--deep 

and perverse. It was the kind of feeling she hadn't felt since she had a real body--a sweet 

and deep kind of feeling she thought she would never have again since losing her flesh body. 

Now she knew how to feel it any time there was someone to kill... 

_____"NO!" she shouted. This wasn't why she had become a cyborg! Sera didn't want to 

become a MONSTER, like those three bastards who had killed and ate the surviving members

of her family! She killed two of them, and one of them was still alive. The last monster... 

_____Yet, apparently, she was becoming exactly like those three. As the city winds played 

with silken strands of her long red hair, she thought about cutting up bodies and making blood 

gush. It actually felt GOOD to cut people, to cut and maim. To KILL, that felt the best. 

And she knew it would feel even BETTER to kill a fleshie, their bodies so firm outside and 

with deliciously soft and wet insides. Mmm-m-m…

_____The red-haired young cyborg squeezed her eyes shut, clenched the damaged blade 

and shrieked, "STOP IT!" Then she threw down that weapon and shoved her way through 

the crowd of onlookers who had gathered around to see the crazy cyborg who killed all of 

these hunters. Then she ran past the carts that the bounty hunters were pushing. She really 

had to see someone soon. Maybe Mr. Yin could help! Miss Patsun had to know where he 

was, if not help solve the sadistic sickness that was filling her mind. 

...

4.

...

_____Carlos had found himself a small area to work on, and he continued lifting up pieces of

concrete and the occasional body part. He had been working steadily for the past hour, but he 

felt that he may as well continue working for hours yet--his sturdy work-clothes dusted and 

streaked with grit. His electromechanical arms worked tirelessly, metal hands gripping and 

passing away the chunks of rubble. Though his head and metal torso was heating from the 

exertions, he just kept going. There were hundreds of workers around here, all around and 

doing the same thing.

_____But not all of what he picked up was hard junk--not at all. He had found a few crushed

corpses so far. The fleshies, full humans, were obliterated when the building came down. They

were like bags of meat, all full of soft wet organs and blood. He could tell when he was close

to finding a dead fleshie by the blood.

_____There was a shifting of rubble and a sudden flurry of activity behind him. "Agh...! Guh-

guh..." gasped and coughed a female cyborg in business suit--her gashed synthetic face exposed 

in the debris. "Ghh... SOMEBODY HELP ME OUT OF THIS!" Carlos turned around 

and went to help. Everyone pushed and shoved aside rubble to help a female cyborg out of 

the rubble. "IT HURTS!" she screamed, yelling and struggling. The right side of her business

jacket was torn, exposing the damaged metal torso beneath--which leaked blood. She then 

went unconscious.

_____Some other people came by and hurriedly carried her away. Carlos kept himself from

following the group, instead went back to his spot. And all this time, they thought that they 

had found all of the survivors. Cyborgs... The survivors were all cyborgs. They had not found

a single fleshie survivor. 

_____He went back to work. And he thought of meat. Yes, just bags of meat, all full of soft 

wetness. Meat puppets, really. It was safer to think of them as meat, as not being remains of 

people. Whenever corpses of dead people were found, they were just picked up and lifted 

away with the rest of the mess. Along with chunks of wall and flooring, there were bigger 

chunks of fleshie-people and cyborgs. Concrete, bodies, floor tiles, blood, wires, all of that 

was picked up and carried away. Just pick it up and carry it away. Pick it up and carry. 

Pick up, carry away. It was simple. 

_____What was it that Lars said that night with he and Marlene? Oh yes… He said, so 

long there is food, it should not matter if people are happy or sad. Carlos wondered how 

true that was right now. With bounty hunters invading this sector and killing people, with all 

the troubles happening these past fewweeks, he wondered about what life was worth. 

____"SLOW DOWN, girl! You're wearing yourself out!" shouted someone near the ruined

street. "Hey Jimmy, tell 'em to get the hose over here... This kid is gonna to burn herself up! 

I'm tryin' to warn her!" Carlos then heard the familiar WHOOSH of cold gushing water from 

a hose--spraying metal bodies to cool them down. He was getting warm himself, should 

really go over and try to get cooled a little as well. 

_____No, he would keep at it--like that pretty cyborg-girl with the long red hair. When she

first came here, he heard her working pretty damned fast. She was practically throwing aside 

big chunks of broken building and digging in a hurry. A lot of the people in this building 

didn't have too many close relatives as they were so dedicated to their jobs. Maybe she 

knew someone in the ruin... And maybe that was why she was now close to overheating 

herself.

_____Now Carlos felt an extra twinge of sadness. Now he remembered where he saw the

red-haired cyborg-girl before... Carlos saw her sitting at an outdoor cafe, while he was on 

his way to work. The girl was getting drunk. He remembered asking about her during mid-day 

lunch-breaks at work. Some people said she was some kind of prize-fighter at the local 

arena. Then there was talk about her being a new enforcer with too much on her mind.

_____Whatever was wrong with the girl, it had made her want to get drunk that morning--and 

probably a lot of other mornings too. In his younger years, before he became a cyborg, he 

had seen more than one friend die in horrible and awful ways. 

_____One of his friends had been yanked into an ingot-pressing machine at a steel reprocessing 

facility. The machines were designed for ruggedness and speed, not for safety. So it was 

easy to have an accident if one wasn't careful. What came out the other end was barely 

recognizable as once being human, so burned and mutilated. 

_____Another fleshie friend of his had gotten into a fistfight with a cyborg--a fleshie with no 

real fighting skills, trying to fight someone with a metal body. It was like a terrible forklift 

accident. The damned fool was punched through the chest--blood everywhere.

_____They were all meat puppets, everyone. Even cyborgs had a bit of meat left: brains.

Oh, look at this: more dead meat. As he lifted chunks of concrete and dead human flesh 

from the ruined rubble, he was again reminded of what people were worth. Everyone was 

just parts of the great big machine known as civilization.

_____Someone patted him on the shoulder. He looked up, saw a familiar woman's face:

Marlene--dressed in a grit-dusted tee-shirt and jean-shorts. "Hey guy, you can stop now. 

The construction personnel are going to handle the rest of this." She put her solid hands on 

her shapely metal hips in denim. "Damn, you look really tired. Let's go get a beer or 

something. Then we can worry about how we're going to spend our overtime pay."

_____Carlos shrugged and got up from where he was working. Looking around, he saw 

that everyone else was slow-walking their way across this ruin. Most of the rubble was gone

already, and it was late-afternoon already. So lost in thought and work, he really didn't notice 

the progress being made or the passage of time.

_____There were plenty of big heavy trucks parked nearby, starting their engines to carry away

the rubble as he and Marlene approached the street. In getting away from the rubble heap, he 

passed right by the red-haired girl who was working so intensely earlier. Her long red hair hid the 

sides of her face and lay against her slim solid back. 

_____When Carlos and Marlene were a block away, he glanced back. The red-haired cyborg-

girl was still back there, the late-afternoon light drawing out her shadow onto the street. "Hope 

she finds whatever she's looking for," he commented. "Poor kid." Marlene chose not to say 

anything about that. A random breeze blew past his ear, and he thought he heard... "Did you 

hear someone scream?"

...

_____Within the chunks of rubble, there was an old-fashioned radio. It was once within Miss

Patsun's desk--which was smashed to ruins. As was Miss Patsun's body. Her crushed 

remains had been put in one of the junk-trucks, along with plenty of other corpses--like all 

the other dead meat. But her strange radio was still in the ruins. 

_____A rather heavy truck rumbled by. Sera, still kneeling and feeling overheated, turned her 

head--stroked some lengths of red hair away from her eyes to see better. Despite there being

bright yellow sunlight, the truck seemed an unusually black color. It must have been some kind

of fancy and expensive paint job to make it look so dark. 

_____The young cyborg did not notice the shifting of the rubble, from when the dark truck 

drove by. That heavy vibration was just enough to make some of the hard concrete debris 

slide aside. 

_____This had partially exposed Miss Patsun's old-fashioned radio--strangely intact. There

was no real damage to the plastic casing. It looked no worse than it did before the building

collapse. The the meshed circular part with the speaker was exposed to the sky. When the 

wind blew, it whispered and brushed along the exposed mesh. The radio seemed to be on,

because there were faint sounds of screaming coming from beneath the speaker's mesh. 

...

_____It has always been very dark here. Always had been, and it always would be--though 

there were the rare spotlights. Like how one such incredibly bright spotlight shone down on 

of the round wooden tables. The Dream Woman was seated at this table. Now, her tight 

red dress was styled differently. The shimmering silk seemed molded to her slim body like a 

second skin--styled as so it left her shoulders and arms bare. Her long, silky pale-blonde hair 

was brushed straight back from her face--as so she could enjoy her bowl of cinnamon oatmeal 

by the bright illumination of the spotlight. 

_____The Janitor was still sitting here as well, that huge punchbowl now empty. He had even

licked the residue of cinnamon from the rim. Now he sat very still, his hands at his sides, the 

belly of his coveralls swollen and full. 

_____The Dream-Woman had herself another spoonful of the cinnamon oatmeal. Oh, how 

delicious! This was the most wonderful-tasting oatmeal she had in a very long time. She 

dipped the spoon into the bowl and took up small amounts. Then she would bring the 

sweet-tasting mush to her lips. Mmm-m-m…

_____AA-AGH! Carbon screamed in the darkness. The shadowy figures in the gloom giggled

and shook. For every sound of pain he made, they had funny mutterings and little sounds to make. 

The pale-haired Dream Woman took another bite--resulting in another scream from the cyborg. 

She stirred the spoon within the mush of the bowl, and Carbon made retching sick sounds. 

Another bite, and then came another scream. 

_____The Dream Woman glanced across the table, at the Janitor--not moving or reacting to

the sound of Carbon's screams. His eyes were still closed, and his face was relaxed with peace.

There was no point in talking to him now.

_____She took another spoonful. Too bad, this bowl was almost empty. She had worked 

SO HARD to get this cinnamon oatmeal. The most delicious bowl of cinnamon oatmeal ever

made, and she had done her best to make it last. She used the spoon to take another dainty 

bite, savoring the thick sweet deliciousness. Yet again, Carbon screamed in the distant 

darkness. But his screams were becoming fainter, just as the cinnamon oatmeal was becoming

less and less.

_____She glanced over at the Janitor once more, her red eyes glinting... Bluish smoke began 

to billow up from the floor beneath the table. It began to swirl thickly around where the Janitor 

was sitting, around the Janitor himself. Soon, the bluish smoke completely covered the 

hard-working figure in coveralls and blue work-shirt. Even with the bright white spotlight 

shining and blazing, the blue smoke was too thick to see through.

_____Within a moment, the smoke dissolved. It became translucent, faded and wafted up into 

the darkness. But now there was not much to see. Where the Janitor once sat, there was now 

a pile of mud in the seat, dripping onto the floor. The wooden chair seemed to soften and rot 

with the mud, collapsing under the weight. Somewhere in that pile of mud was a pair of muddy 

and ruined coveralls that would never be worn again. 

_____The pile of mud began to dissolve, and the Dream Woman continued to savor her 

delicious and soft bowl of cinnamon oatmeal. She knew where the Janitor had come from, and 

she knew where he was returning to. All the while, Carbon's screams in the darkness became

fainter and fainter.

...

_____Sera's body had cooled down sixty minutes ago. But it wasn't until now that she felt 

ready to continuing her solitary digging. She was lucky that she had gotten here when she did: 

Not all the remains and concrete had been removed and trucked away. The workers wouldn't 

continue their work until tomorrow, so she had this place to herself. Digging and digging... 

He had to be in here somewhere. She just knew it.

_____Wait... She heard a muffled scream--HIS scream. A nasty look on her pretty face, 

Sera scrambled over to where she had heard it coming from. She quickly went to her knees

and threw aside some junk and that old radio. Her metal fingertips struck something! Moving 

with frantic speed, she soon found Carbon in the rubble.

_____"You're ALL MINE NOW, BASTARD! YEAH-H-H!" She tilted back her head, and

gave a sheer SHOUT of triump and glee--the sound blasting through her throat. Then, hands 

tensing, she returned her attention to what she wanted to do, getting Carbon out of the debris 

as so she could have her way with him. 

_____When she fully uncovered the mutilated cyborg, bolted to the rectangular metal plate,

her fingers went to his head...which was already smashed in. Then everything seemed to go 

dead to her. She felt a dark coldness spread throughout her body, and all her strength left

her. 

_____Apparently, Carbon was already dead. No... NO! Sera blinked and leaned forward 

to get a better look. Yep, he was a goner. "NO-NO-NO-NO-NO-NO!" she ranted. "You 

were the LAST ONE! I was supposed to finish you off! It's not fair! Not fair! Why did you 

have to die? Stupid jerk, you KNEW what was supposed to happen to you in the end. YOU 

were supposed to be my reward. After all of this! But now YOU'RE DEAD!" 

_____The echoes of her shouts faded, taken off on the city winds. So this was it. All three of 

her sworn enemies were dead. She had so deeply wanted to kill the last one herself. No use in

trying to do that now. And now her family was waiting for her.

_____Sunlight glinted off of another piece of metal nearby. This piece of metal happened to be 

shaped and crafted into the form of a handgun, gripped and held by a cyborg still buried in the 

debris and rubble. 

_____Whispering the names of her family members, she stumbled over to the gripped handgun. 

It was to easy to take the weapon from the dead electromechanical hand--as if the buried broken 

cyborg was handing her the thing. Kneeling on both knees, she used the fingers of her left hand 

to get some hair out of the way, putting the barrel of the weapon to the synthetic skin of her 

temple. Her tears dripped to the concrete as she squeezed the trigger.


	10. Chapter 10: The Computer God is Dead

The Cinnamon Horizon

by Elliot Bowers

Chapter 10: The Computer God is Dead

...

1.

...

_____"What d'you think she's dreaming about?" asked one of the male cyborgs. He was 

looking over at the sleeping female--gently resting against a truck's wheel. It was barely 

morning, still chilly. Most everything around here with a human brain was still asleep. 

"She's been mumbling weird shit the whole time she's been napping. Bad enough I'm 

all keyed up. Being all excited about TODAY!" 

_____"Hee-hee..." giggled the cuddled-up cyborg-girl, her face resting against her crossed 

metal arms, blonde hair tousled and loose underneath her tall pink hat. "Pass me a...spoon. 

Y-y-yeah... There's plenty." Murmur-murmur... She said something else after that, but it 

came out all garbled--something about mushy food. And the way she smacked her lips, 

she was probably dreaming about eating it.

_____The first male bounty hunter adjusted his pink chef's hat. "Hell, I'm surprised we all

didn't have whacked-out nightmares last night--because of this stupid shit we're told we 

have to wear. God damn it... Velvet scarves and pink chef's hats! Why the fuck is that 

crazy machine in Zalem make us wear this? Fashion statements?"

_____"Ha-ha..." laughed a new female voice. "Yes, maybe our bad taste in fashion accessories 

will scare all the criminals into easy surrender." This newcomer was a thin-looking female 

cyborg, in long black trenchcoat and boots, her black hair hanging straight down her back. 

She also had on a pink chefhat and blue velvet scarf. "But we are all to be paid plenty of 

chips for this...if we live." She then glanced down at the blonde cyborg sleep-sitting against 

that truck. "We could all succeed if we were all calm enough to rest prior to the fighting."

_____The sleeping cyborg mumbled and murmured some more. "This is..." Murmur-murmur. 

"Can't you...smell it? Ronette, if you can't..." SNORE! "Camilla, you too. It's...in the breeze..." 

Mumble-grumble. "Why can't you...smell it? TASTE it? Huh? WHAT! You're head is...full 

of it! AAIGH!" Whoa! 

_____Everyone jumped back and took up fighting stances when the sleeping cyborg bounced 

to her feet. Oddly enough, no one's chef's hat fell off. They knew what would happen if they

were to lose their hats... A stupid and risky thing, wearing these hats, but it was a key condition

to getting paid by Zalem. 

_____The once-sleeping cyborg looked around, her eyes wild for a few seconds. She blinked 

and giggled. "Hee-hee... Sorry, guys. I guess my nightmare got me a little carried away." She 

shook her head, everyone looking at her. "God, it was weird. I dreamt that everyone was 

talking backwards. We were all at this really long white table. I mean, the table was, like, a 

mile long. And we were all eating stuff out of bowls. Some kind of mushy food flavored with 

blood. Then there was..."

_____"I BELIEVE...we have heard enough," interrupted the female hunter in black trenchcoat.

"If you continue to rant psychedelic things of that sort, you are likely to fill our heads with 

confusion. That is not what we want before the battles to come."

_____"You mean, the tall pink hats and the scarves aren't confusing enough?" asked one of the 

male bounty hunters. "We haven't even started to boogie, and I'm already feeling a little freaky.

Talking about one more weird dream won't make much of a difference."

_____The female hunter in black trenchcoat gave a slight smile, turned away. She faced

west, looking at the darkening blue sky above this industrial city. Behind her, everyone else 

was talking about what they were planning to do when the fighting started in the criminal-run

sector. The bounty postings from Zalem said that they did not have to collect heads to receive 

bounty from this raid, but some hunters were going to do that anyway. They planned on making

plenty of headless corpses before this long day was done. 

_____The Netmen said that this was supposed to all happen at the same time. There were over 

six hundred bounty hunters involved in this, missle-armed Deckmen coming along, all going in 

to do the same thing! All going in for the same reward. Yet the greatest bounty would go to 

those who found the hackers--dead or alive. She smiled. 

...

_____The madness began at noon. Fwoosh…KABLAM! An explosion shook the entire 

downtown plaza. Within all the smoke and chaos, people ran and scrambled amidst loud

sounds of confusion and violence--screaming and shouting all over the place. Then came 

sounds of grunts, along with gunshots and sounds of blades cutting: cutting metal and flesh.

Sounds of fright mixed with growls of anger became part of the dark cacophony. Over there, 

enforcers were suddenly fighting bounty hunters in warrior clothing and pink chef's hats. Over

here, blades and fists clashed with firing guns. And look... Across the street, bounty hunters

were cutting off heads.

_____FWO-O-OSH… Another Deckman's missile came surprisingly close to here. It hit the 

nearest restaurant, making brick and glass explode everywhere. There were more screams,

more blood. Fire sputtered within the wrecked building as wafting clouds of smoke poured 

out to the chaotic street. 

_____The fighting temporarily stuttered as the smoke wafted along the street. There was a 

quick and violent flash of alloyed blade, and an enforcer lost his metal arm--before he lost 

his head. Then the bounty hunter had himself a victorious smile.

_____Until a ceramic round blew out his chest. Blood and other fluids blasted out of his 

back, and he dropped--an angry look on his face. Another hat-wearing bounty hunter 

picked up his blade, now standing with two weapons. His surviving comrades leapt out of 

the way when he ducked--a gunshot whizzing over his head. He turned and made a run for

the nearest alley where he was blasted to pieces by enforcer gunfire. 

_____Then there were all kinds of shooting after that. The enforcers just started blasting 

away at anyone wearing a chef's hat, not caring for efficiency or conserving ammunition. 

Even when those bounty hunters fell to the street, the enforcers kept shooting. They changed 

their aim, firing at those who were now running in this direction. The hunters' pink chef's hats 

were no longer so humerous-looking as they were spattered with blood. 

...

_____The next batch of hat-wearing bounty hunters just came from the next street over. 

Over on that street, there was a modified Deckman hovering along on a weapons platform--a 

large floating deck with plenty of missiles and several nuclear-powered guns that fired quick 

bright bursts. All around, therewas smoke from several blasted shops and office buildings. 

Bodies and body parts lay in haphazard places. The dead cyborgs weren't so bad, but the 

murdered fleshies made for real messes. 

_____CRACK! A carefully aimed shot had snatched a chunk of steel out of the deckman's 

cylindrical body. The robot rotated around on the weapon-heavy platform--chubby rubbery 

face scanning the area for anyone with a gun. CRACK! FW-FW-FWOOSH! In response 

to that attack, the deckman fired a few random missiles. There were distant explosions and 

more screams when the missiles found some things to blow up. 

_____CRACK-CRACK! A few more ceramic blasts, and more chunks were torn out of the

riding robot's metal body. It whirled around and around, unable to tell where the gunfire was 

coming from. It could not find the attacker. 

_____Then there was an awesome and massive explosion. It was a fiery and massively loud 

bast that destroyed everything within a thirty-yard radius. The targets could not be seen, so 

the deckman blew itself up.

_____The enforcers that survived the blast ran out of the ruined buildings nearby. They stopped

outside just long enough to check their handguns, then ran off to join in the fighting. There were 

random battles going on everywhere, street to street. Yes, Melchezedek the master-computer 

was definitely malfunctioning--getting the bounty hunters to wear those funky things. 

...

_____It was late afternoon now, this neighborhood looking a little more ruined from deckman 

blasts. "Heh-heh... Watch me do this," he said. With five others watching, he knelt at the 

edge of the roof and aimed his handgun. One eye closed, one metal finger went over the 

trigger of the blocky handgun. He held his breath and squee-e-ezed the trigger. CRACK!

_____"Nope, you missed!" commented the male enforcer with the expensively cut blond hair. 

He walked closer to the edge of this roof to get a better look at who Joe had shot. "Your 

shot just knocked off his hat. The wind must have ruined your aim. Now the jerk is looking 

around."

_____A female enforcer stepped next to Joe. "I think he meant to do that... Didn't you?" 

She crossed her arms as the late-afternoon breeze played with her dark-brown hair, squinting 

as the sun shone almost directly into her artificial eyes. "Okay, why'd you aim for his hat 

instead of his chest? Or are you going to leave it as a surprise?" 

_____Joe's answer was a sinister smile. It was the sort of smile that meant, I'm not going to 

tell you. You'll just have to wait and see. 

_____Everyone else came over to the edge of the roof and took a look. They were looking 

down on the sunset-colored street--three stories down: a confused-looking bounty hunter 

down there. He had his hands on his bare head, looking around. Then he happened to turn 

around... Ah, THERE IT IS! His pink chef's hat was being blown along the sidewalk, blown

by the random winds. As stupid and ugly as the thing looked, he had to get it. 

_____Chasing his pink chef hat along that sidewalk, he suddenly tried to turn and run the 

other way. There was a deckman nearby, on a hovering weapons platform. Uh-oh... The 

sound of a missile launch was audible from up here. 

_____Fwoosh... BLAM! All six enforcers saw a gray streak shoot out from a deckman's 

missile platform to blow up that bounty hunter. There was a short-lived fireball in the street 

that quickly darkened to black. The pall of dark smoke hung in the street like a large and 

shadowy ghost before being carried away on the next wind. 

_____Joe continued to smile as everyone else stood there in open-mouthed surprise. It was

Judy, the one standing next to Joe, who understood what just happened. "Oh, I get it! It's 

those stupid HATS! That's how the bounty hunters keep themselves identified to the deckmen! 

They're all part of some big team. A damned stupid team, coming into this sector and thinking 

they can beat us into submission." 

_____The blond male enforcer crossed his arms and kept looking down there. He saw the

deckman go floating over on its weapons platform. Even from up here, he could recognize 

the look of the cylindrical robot. Like all deckmen, it's face had chubby rubbery cheeks and 

extra-thick lips. It's eyes were twin cameras that looked like deep dark eyeholes. It surveyed 

the aftermath of the explosion, confirming that the bounty hunter had been eliminated, then 

started hovering away along the street.

_____Stupid robot. Don't try to look up, thought Joe. Because you can't. He took aim 

again. CRACK! He had targeted the body, and the shot had snapped a hole straight through 

the deckman's cylindrical body. 

_____At first, it seemed as if the hit had done no damage. The deckman just kept riding 

along the street. But when it approached the next streetcorner, it didn't turn. It didn't stop. 

It just drove itself right into the next building across the way--the impact making for a weak 

THUD of steel against wall. It bounced back, began hovering slowly backwards. Luckily, 

all the cars were off the street... No, wait. 

_____What was that sound? It was coming from way over there, down on the streets. 

Something was coming. There was a squeal of screeching tires and the sound of a heavy 

engine roar to match. Everyone looked at an approaching truck--coming from the west. 

Because the setting sun's glare was in everyone's eyes, they couldn't really see where the 

Hell truck had came from. 

_____But they sure knew where it was going, no question about that! They saw that big 

dark vehicle go ROARING full-speed ahead, flames shooting out from its big exhaust-pipe. 

The night-colored vehicle was rumbling right for the deckman's hovering weapons platform. 

Then there was a BLAST of shattered metal and broken parts. The dark truck had simply 

rammed its way right through the robot and its weapons platform--somehow without causing

the weapons to explode. 

_____Then the truck just kept going, undamaged even after it had obliterated the deckman. 

But even as it went right past this building, they could not really get a good look at the 

vehicle. The truck was just so dark. And the sun was still making for quite a glare, making 

it look blurry. Before long, the vehicle was gone. 

_____"WOW!" exclaimed Judy. "That must have been one piss-angry truck driver! I always 

thought they were all safety conscious. Thought they were even a little bit like cowards or 

something. Guess I know better now!"

_____"What the...? Well, I don't care if he did obliterate one of those deckmen," commented

the blond enforcer. "That was crazy and stupid! If our sector survives this stupid bounty hunter

raid, I'm going to talk to the transportation dispatchers and...!"

_____"Our sector WILL survive," insisted Judy. Facing away from the sunset, she explained. 

"We're going to beat all the bounty hunters. Melchezedek is malfunctioning, sending in a 

handful of crazies armed with nothing but outdated weapons and ruthless tactics." She 

reached into her dark jacket and took out her own small weapon: a small and extremely 

efficient ceramic-round handgun. "And all we have to do is look out for those pink chef 

hats and blue scarves." CRACK! "Damn it, Joe! I was TALKING!"

_____Joe smirked a smirk that meant, So what? Then he resumed. CRACK! CRACK...

CRACK! He was shooting again. This time, each one of his shots knocked down a bounty 

hunter. An entire group of them had wandered by these evacuated urban streets, wondering 

about the explosions and the destroyed deckman. It was too easy to just point and shoot the 

bastards. Pink chef hats and blue scarves...! All of them were wearing chef hats and 

scarves! 

...

2.

...

_____Lissette dressed herself in black athletic shorts and matching lycra top before leaving the 

lab, her long dark hair tied back with a circle of yarn--dark footwear on her feet. She climbed 

up the ladder and felt upward. Instead of quickly opening the hatch, she paused and listened. 

There were no sounds coming from above, other than the sounds of the wind. Above this 

lab was a night club that was closed until all the bounty hunter craziness was over. According 

to the text messages from Feng-Long, most people were staying off the streets. And all the 

neighborhoods with the most dangerous fighting had been evacuated completely. So, of 

course, there would be no one at this night club. 

_____At least most of the fighting was over. The messages also said that most of the bounty 

hunters had been--themselves--hunted down. Just maybe, Zalem's master computer shouldn't 

have ordered that they all wear pink chef hats and blue scarves. And those deckmen, they 

were blasted as well. The streets shouldn't be too dangerous now...

_____They shouldn't be, but Lissette wanted to be sure. That was why she was getting up

out of this lab--going up out to the surface to have a look-see. So she pushed up the hatch 

and climbed up, bringing her into the kitchen of the night club. 

_____Someone had left the light on. Then, quietly, she lowered the hatch. It now looked a 

lot like the rest of the floor. A person had to look very carefully to see it. That done, she 

walked out of the kitchen, into the main room of the night club. The plain white lights were 

on and extra bright out here, making this place seemed abandonded and dead. The lights 

were usually dimmed and multi-colored when the customers were here--on the dance floor, 

sitting at the side-tables or at the drinking bar. Music would be thumping. Everyone would 

be drinking and having a good time.

_____But not now. No music was playing. All the people were gone. And the full bright

lights--florescent white--gave this temporarily abandoned place the look and feel of a morgue.

With the wind blowing and howling outside the door, it even felt like one. Lissette carefully 

stepped across the hard dance floor and between some of the tables to reach the exit.

...

_____The gloomy outside was a contrast to the sharp and bare brightness of the night club 

inside. Outside, the dying light of day set the cityscape in reddish-orange tones. The sunset 

was deep and orange, lighting the cityscape in soft glowing tones. This day was getting later 

and darker. It would soon be over, all of it. The violence, the murder, the screaming and 

the killing... Lissette heard none of that. Everything seemed so quiet and calm--maybe too 

calm as there were no people in sight. There were no bounty hunters: no cyborgs in blue 

scarves and pink chef hats. 

_____There were some executive cars parked on the sides of the street, the dimly lit empty 

streets. The wind was picking up. A random gust nearly knocked her over, making her long 

dark hair flap like a banner in storm. She had to stand with feet apart to keep from ending 

up on her back. When the wind did die down a little, she took another look around to be 

sure that there were no bounty hunters. There was no one around. And all the bounty 

hunters were being forced to keep on those pink chef hats.

_____Miss Patsun's building--or what was left of the structure--should be about six blocks 

away. By now, it was very likely that most of the structure was trucked away along with most 

of the bodies. Lissette was told that Miss Patsun was killed when her building went down. 

She just had to be sure. It was hard for her to believe...

_____Lissette crossed the abandoned street and turned right. Walking along, the hacker-girl 

expected to see at least some people. Her eyes would glance to the sides and to the street. 

Expecting to see someone, anyone. But there was no one around here. There was just the 

howling winds blowing among the buildings, wind rushing along the streets. It was going to 

be dark in about an hour, the sunset still burning low on the horizon. Hmm... A pretty slow 

sunset, she thought to herself. 

_____R-R-R-UMBLE...! The sound of a heavy engine made her quickly turn around. It 

was a black truck, moving fast and motoring along the street--its exhaust pipe spouting flame.

When it roared past, the big thing was moving so fast that she felt the breeze of its passing,

even from here on the sidewalk. She had also felt the heat from its flaming exhaust. Damn,

she had never seen a truck do that! 

_____It was soon gone, probably heading for somewhere else in the city. And things were

quiet again. Lissette wasn't sure, but she didn't think she saw anyone up in the driver's seat

of the huge dark vehicle. Must have been a trick of the light, she thought. Then she went the 

rest of the way to the location of Miss Patsun's office building.

...

_____From across the street and half a block away, lit by the deep reddish glow of sunset, 

Lissette saw someone kneeling on the rubble and doing something. A girl with long red 

hair, light glinted off the metal of her body. The girl was a cyborg. She seemed very busy 

with something. Could it be...?

_____Lissette made a quick light jog across to that side of the street. Indeed, the workers 

had trucked away most of the building. Now the debris pile looked especially flat. She 

raised her right hand and opened her mouth to give a greeting to the cyborg-girl...but hesitated. 

The thing that the cyborg-girl had, that was a gun. 

_____The dark-haired girl was now looking on a scene of obscene horror. The red-haired 

cyborg was doing all sorts of dangerous things to the gun. Her lips wrapped around the gun's

she was sucking on it. Then she tried blowing it. She finally put the thing to her head and 

tried to pull the trigger... Nope, the gun was still jammed. 

_____So she would try sucking and patting the gun some more. Apparently, the cyborg-girl 

must have been doing this for some time now. It was a good thing she didn't know much about 

guns. If she did, she would have disassembled it, cleaned it, reassembled it...and successfully 

blown out her own brains.

_____Getting over her shock, Lissette drew a deep breath into her lungs. She paused, 

gathering her strength, then let loose with as loud a shout as she could. "SERA! STOP IT!"

_____"Hmm?" Sera paused, the barrel in her mouth. That was just long enough for Lissette 

to dash over--yet again showing how unusually fast she was for a fleshie. The girl seemed to 

become a blur of speed with trailing dark hair. The gun was SLAPPED out of Sera's mouth. 

Flecks of synthetic saliva ppattered out, and the handgun bounced along the rubble.

_____Lissette tried to stop quickly, instead stumbled and rolled on the rubble. When she

did, she was crouching on one scraped knee wet with redness. Both knees were scraped.

But she saw the gun! The dark-haired girll hopped quickly over to it and grabbed it up. 

Red wetness dripped down her smooth calves from the damaged flesh of her knees as her

quivering fingers held the handgun.

_____Sera slowly stood, her head bowed and hair shadowing her face. The fiery light of the

dying day made her red hair seem even redder. "Give me the gun." She put out her left hand, 

palm up. "I need it."

_____Clutching the gun even tighter, Lissette slowly shook her head. She was surprised when

something warm and wet splashed against her hands: tears. Then she realized that she was 

crying. Sniffing once, the girl answered. "No, Sera. I won't let you." More warm wet tears 

splashed down during the moment of silence that followed. 

_____Sera's voice sounded harsh and damaged within her artificial throat. "I said... Give

me the fucking gun, you bitch." She clenched and unclenched her waiting hand. "My family

is waiting for me... Can't you hear them? When I die, I can be with them. So give it. Or shoot

me yourself, it doesn't matter. Just listen to them in the breeze."

_____Just as those words were said, the wind suddenly pushed a little harder. Lissette 

narrowed her eyes and tilted her head to the side, as if straining to hear. Listening very 

carefully. All she heard was the wind, howling of the wind in her ears. 

_____"I don't hear anything, Sera. You're tired and upset, so you're not thinking clearly. 

Why don't we go over to a nightclub and talk this all out. Besides, there's nothing beyond 

life. If you die, there will be nothing there. Nothing but NOTHING. Trust me."

_____Sera closed the hand she was holding out, the hand waiting for the gun. She then slowly 

lowered her arm. The winds became angrier, suddenly picking up powdery waves of dust 

and grit from the rubble they were standing on. 

_____The wind stopped blowing as if holding its eternal breath. It was now quiet enough

to hear spoken words, though there was still the faint churning and humming of industrial 

machinery off in the distance--still running so close to nightfall. Sera's words were as sad as

the sunset happening right now. "You... You won't give me the gun? Then... I'm sorry, but

I will kill you for it." Then Sera began to take slow steps towards Lissette--footwear crunching

debris that still held bodies of the dead. Fierce gusts began to blow again.

_____Above the renewed gusts of wind, Lissette shouted to be heard. "LOOK! I'm trying 

to be friendly! I don't know you too well, but I'm still trying to reason with you!" she shouted.

"Are you LISTENING to me?" 

_____Apparently, Sera was beyond any listening at this point. Lissette tried to turn and run, 

but the debris was too unstable, making her stumble. No, there was no running from this one.

She tossed the gun behind her and took up a fighting stance as the cyborg walked within 

striking distance. The girl didn't want to kill Sera, but she would defend herself.

...

_____Lissette thought it ironic that she so happened to dress herself in dark athletic clothing.

She had dressed this way so she could better blend in with the oncoming night. And the tight 

Clothing was tight enough to allow quick movement. 

_____Good thing, because Sera's first attack was a backhand-fist that moved fast enough to 

cut air, a gray blur. Lissette had seen the blow coming, tried to block with her forearm... 

THWACK! 

_____A fleshie trying to stop a cyborg's strike is like trying to stop a piece of factory machinery. 

Lissette was sent flying for a second, knocked sideways. She landed on her back--hard on 

some concrete, stunned for a second. Damn, this concrete was HARD! Sera really was 

trying to kill her; the blow nearly ruined her arm! Now Lissette was pissed. Her right arm 

feeling shaky, she stood again. That cyborg moved over to Lissette's new position.

_____Thump! WHACK! The first kick made Sera double over, a blow to her armored 

midsection. And the second kick snapped across her head. It brought her to her knees, her 

eyesight becoming a dazzling red haze thoroughly sprinkled with many sparkles of pain.

_____Lissette brought herself back to a basic fighting stance--arms up and legs apart. But

when Sera did not get up, she lowered her arms and stood normally. "Stop this right now, 

Sera! I was the one who taught you how to fight, remember? I know all of your kickboxing

moves. But if we still have to do this, I... AIGH!" She shrieked in surprise as the cyborg 

grabbed her around the thighs.

_____Struggling and straining, Lissette was brought down. For the second time this fight, her 

back was slammed onto the concrete chunks of the rubble pile. But that wasn't the worst of it. 

The cyborg still had a painful grip on her legs. Then the cyborg began climbing on top of 

her, the weight of a metal body pressing down on her hips... Then down on her midsection. 

_____Sera was using her metal thighs to clamp Lissette's arms to her sides. The dark-haired 

girl struggled while the cyborg reached for a particularly sharp and jagged piece of concrete 

debris. The sun was getting low and there was a lot less light to see by, but Sera's artificial 

eyesight let her find what she was groping for. With her right metal hand, she gripped 

Lissette's chin and pushed back her head. This exposed her throat...

_____Oh my God, she wouldn't, thought the girl. Then she felt the horrible pain begin 

at the side of her neck. Then she could painfully feel the jagged sharpness being pulled 

across, coming across her throat. As the jagged piece of concrete cut across, so did the 

pain! THE PAIN BURNED! The hurt and suffering filled her head and spread throughout her body 

for some seconds, then began to fade...

_____Red wetness sprayed up like a fountain. It splattered all against Sera's face and 

chest. She still sat astride the girl, the bloody shard of concrete still gripped in the left hand.

She waited for the girl to stop struggling... 

--This is an INSERTED PAGE--done on Wednesday.

_____The girl's body relaxed and went still. Sera climbed up off of the body, feeling oddly

relaxed. So she had killed again. And killing felt even better than before. She looked at 

the shard of bloody concrete. It felt good and strong in her left hand. Maybe she would find

another fleshie walking by and use this again.

_____Somewhere in the back of her mind was something--or someone--telling her to stop 

this. This was the thinking of a monster. A monster kills people. A monster finds innocent 

bystanders and ends their lives in blood-soaked ways. Monsters live off of pain. Or, so said

the little voice at the back of her head. 

_____But, being a monster... It felt so good. Looking at the shard of bloody concrete, the

cooling city winds whistled past and fluttered her long red hair. These were the winds of the

sunset--the winds that came as the darkness of the night continued to approach. And when

it was dark, it would be easier to find a firm-bodied young fleshie and cut... And mutilate....

And eventually KILL. 

_____Thoughts of cut flesh and high-pitched screams filled Sera's mind like the effects of a 

sinister wine. As she stepped off of the rubble pile and away from Lissette, the young cyborg

thought about where she would hunt first. The border regions of this sector were a good 

place to start. There were a lot of fleshies around there, and they had plenty of children. Yes,

children... They would struggle wonderfully before dying. So the gunshot was a complete

surprise.

_____Sera stopped walking and looked down. She saw blood pouring from the jagged,

star-shaped hole in her metal chest. Funny, it didn't hurt. She slowly brought her right hand

to the edges of the damage--even dipped the tip of her index finger inside. There was just 

so much blood. Where did...?

p2

_____The second shot spun her completely around. It was as if the shooter was saying, 

Behind you, stupid! Sera saw the holder of the gun, backlit by the blood-red horizon. It

couldn't be... The Dream Woman? 

_____What the Hell? No, it was Lissette there again--her large dark eyes glinting. The 

discarded gun was in her right hand, pointing in this direction, the barrel smoking. This was 

an impossible sight. The girl was standing there with a terrible and bloody cut across her 

throat. Even by the dimming reddish light of the fading sunset, she could see how ruined 

Lissette looked. All the blood...! 

_____The girl should have been dead. Her blood everywhere. Her blood had gushed up 

and out... Sera remembered how it sprayed, gushing from a cut throat. Even now, from the

neck-down, the front of the girl's body was slick and wet with dark red. It soaked the front 

of her sports top and flowed down her bare-midriff, dripping down her legs. You should be

dead, thought the cyborg. You shouldn't be up and alive.

_____One more loud sound struck through the night air, slapping Sera's head backwards.

And she felt herself falling backwards. Things were moving so slowly that she felt as if 

she was flying. When her back hit the concrete debris, it seemed to take a long time. It 

was like she was lying down to sleep. 

_____Impossible, she tried to say. But her artificial lungs couldn't press enough air through

her damaged throat. Sera thought about trying to get up. Instead, some sparks came out from 

her chest, along with some blood. It hurt at first.

_____Then it began to feel relaxing. Slowing and relaxing... Dying wasn't so bad. She felt 

herself falling into the warm darkness that waited for her. And she could hear her little sister

and brother laughing and singing, coming closer along the breeze. Then the darkness of 

death closed over her like a billowing bloom of night-colored smoke. The smoke blocked 

out everything.

...

3.

...

_____The sun was now below the horizon, the smell of factory smoke and riot fires now 

gone stale. All the light of today was now a deep crimson glow on the western skyline. 

But most of the sky was dark, some of the streetlights flickering on. Night was coming on 

the winds.

_____Lissette stood on the rubble--gun in her right hand, fingers of her left hand over her 

red-leaking throat. She was standing on the rubble, waiting for Sera to get up. The cyborg 

went down too easily. All of those sparks and spurts of blood... At least she died 

peacefully. 

_____Sera had to be dead. All of the shots rang true, hitting their mark. The cyborg was 

dead. So Lissette dropped the gun, clattering on the chunks of broken concrete.

_____Then came the strange smoke. It was an oily, dark cloud that began to billow up from 

where Sera lie dead. And it was beginning to spread. Where it was coming from, Lissette 

couldn't tell. She didn't want that weird smoke touching her! By the light of the streetlamps, 

she made her way off of the rubble and onto the more-solid sidewalk. "Uh!"

_____She had tripped and fallen, further scraping her knees. Sucking in air, she managed to 

get unsteadily to her feet and walked away from the smoking pile of rubble with its unknown

smoke. 

_____Now she was beginning to feel it, the heat... She felt as if she was burning up. Her 

injury was beginning to make her suffer. This was all the more reason to hurry back to the 

computer lab to treat her bleeding somehow. She couldn't go to a hospital. It had to be the 

computer lab.

_____Would she make it back in time? Lissette thought about trying to run or jog, but that 

would heat her up even more. And all she could do now was a quick walk. Any faster, 

and she would...fall...over... 

_____And then she was down again, looking up. She must have blacked out for a few 

seconds, or minutes. Maybe an hour. It was hard to tell how much time had passed, since it 

was still night. At least she was feeling a little cooler now. So... 

_____She brought herself to her feet and got moving again, passing a few more blocks 

through the city streets. It was still quiet around here. But, off in the distance, she could 

hear cheering and shouting. There must be a party. But what could they be celebrating? 

She moved on, thinking about that crowd. Something good must be happening. That, or 

she was mistaking the sounds for fighting. The cheering could be the shouting of any remaining

bounty hunters far away.

_____Hmm... Such a long way. Her thoughts were becoming prolonged and dizzy, neck

still leaking. Her sight was covered over with a slight gray haze, and she was feeling weak, 

hot and dry all over. Each one of her steps was a little thud of pain through the numbness. 

_____She just kept walking. One foot in front of the other... That's it. At least there wasn't

so much bleeding now. Her athletic clothes were already a mess. She would probably have

to throw out the whole outfit! It would go in the trash, probably recycled somewhere. Then 

she would go downtown and buy some more. That is, if there still would be a downtown. The 

bounty hunters and the deckmen had blown up a lot of shops. They probably blew up a few of 

her favorite places! 

_____There was this really nice lady who ran this great little boutique across the street from 

a warehouse, a lady who always knew what to look for in storage. Such a nice lady... She 

was probably asleep right now--or up and worried about everyone. Lissette wasn't sure, but

that boutique lady had cyborg sons or something who worked the plastics reclamation facilities 

on the far side of this sector. Yes, keep walking along. 

_____Still walking. She was still feeling sickeningly hot, but she still kept walking and thinking

distracting thoughts. About that lady... The lady's sons were probably cyborgs. She didn't say, 

really. Humans became cyborgs whenever their bodies became too ruined with pollution or

violence. Flesh was replaced with metals and plastics. Electromechanical bodies, those are 

hard bodies, reliable bodies--a lot more reliable than living ones. Lissette's body was synthetic

flesh over a titanium skeleton. Synthetic skin covered over, with polymer strands for hair 

and ceramic eyes.

_____The pain, the burning... Lissette shook her head and kept walking on. She had to 

keep her mind on something else, like her friends. Which one of her friends would have to

become a cyborg first? Sam was the oldest, and he sometimes complained that his fingers 

and feet were "getting bad." He even had internal cramps and had to use the side-room's 

bathroom a lot some days--a sure sign of some internal organs beginning to fail. As the city's

toxins kept building up within his body, day by day, he would get worse. 

_____Just keep walking on. She did not have too much farther to go. One more city 

block. And...! Coming around the corner, now she could see the night club. Thank 

goodness the lights were still off over there. That meant no one was in there; the club was 

still closed. Good. She began to walk across the street.

_____The sudden rumbling sound surprised her, the sound of a truck. Twin headlights 

appeared to her left. She was feeling too hot and dizzy to run out of the way. All she could 

do was hope that the truck would slow down. 

_____It did. There was a squeal of brakes as it slowed to a stop. The bright twin headlights

blazed onto her, bloody from the neck-down and feeling dazed, paused and waiting. The

truck didn't run her over; that was good. But the lights were just so damned bright. 

_____Footsteps approached, and someone put her arm around his shoulder. That someone was 

helping her over to the door of the night club. This was the right place. Underground, in the 

computer lab, she could be fixed up and made better--a comforting thought as she went 

unconscious. She was just feeling so damned hot...!

...

_____She slowly opened her eyes, felt herself on a hard and flat surface. Bright worklights

overhead, she sat up on the table. There were wire leads taped to her head and right wrist.

The burning and dizziness were gone, as was the "blood." She was now dressed in a light 

sleeveless blouse and shorts--no shoes. The burning heat was gone. In fact, she was now 

feeling a little chilly. 

_____"You're awake! Goody!" cheered the skinny, purple-haired girl in thick jacket and 

shorts--gold eyes full of delight and happiness. Her breath made cold puff-clouds in the 

frosty lab air. It was Kela, standing next to the table Lissette was on. Then she took on a 

more stern tone of voice. "It's about time! Your processors were cooled to optimal for a 

full ten minutes!" She began to wag a finger. "I don't care if you DID lose sixty-eight percent 

of your secondary liquid coolant. The hardware for your personality subroutines ought to be 

able to handle higher temperatures than that! Jake and I had to do..." 

_____"WHAT!" shouted Lissette, hopping off of the table. Unlike Kela, Lissette's breath

didn't make for cold-air puff-clouds. That was because she wasn't really human. "You let 

JAKE work on me? Now he knows! Why did you have to tell him! Oh my God...! If he 

knows, then someone else will probably know after that. Then EVERYONE'S going to 

know! They'll make me into somebody's property when they find out I'm not a real person. 

That I'm synthetic. They'll try to cut me open to see what my insides look like. Then they'll 

try to use my parts to make toys or..."

_____Kela squinted her eyes shut before letting loose with a massive shout. "WILL YOU 

SHUT UP FOR A SECOND!" Lissette did. "I mean, GOSH! Okay... Jake was the one 

who got the e-mail and found you standing in the street, looking like a real mess. That big 

gash in your curculatory capillaries splashed your coolant all over your clothes. Yeah, if you 

were human, you would have been dead six times over! Jake helped you down to the lab. 

You're just lucky Sam wasn't here too." 

_____Jake then stepped out of the side-room, into the cooled lab. The right side of his tee 

shirt and jeans were blood-stained... No, that wasn't blood. It was some of Lissette's 

spilled coolant, which was designed to look like blood. His hands were covered with more 

of the same drying liquid. "Huh-huh..." he chuckled, giving Lissette a thumbs-up. 

_____"See?" said Kela. "He ran full remote diagnostics on your BIOS firmware while I 

fixed up your neck. Then we had to pump some spare coolant into your veins. Had to fix 

your knees, too. It took hours, AND we did it while the lab stayed cold enough to cool you

down. You're just lucky all of our computer labs have backup supplies and parts for you.

_____"Then after ALL that, we had to drag you over to the shower to wash you up and get 

you dressed. You may have a nice athletic-looking body, but you sure weigh a LOT! All 

that myogel muscle tissue in those legs of yours..."

_____Lissette walked over and gave Kela a hug. "Thanks. Thanks to you and Jake. You 

saved my life, even if I'm not really alive." Kela's hands went to Lissette's back as she returned

the embrace. Jake chuckled just before he fell unconscious. Kela also went unconscious,

slumping in Lissette's arms. They were taken into a dream... 

...

_____In the Other Place, all of those in the surrounding darkness were giggling and 

whispering. As the wind howled through the dim gloom, they continued to mutter and speak

in low tones about what was happening. Oh, things were getting good--really good. Something

else was going to happen... Footsteps clicked through the darkness, the sound of high heels. 

_____The footsteps soon came to a stop, and hands reached for a chair. The chair was pulled

out from the table. Then there was the slight creaking of a tight red leather dress as firm hips 

flexed in sitting, followed by the sound silky sound of bare legs crossing. There was a sudden 

flash of light, and the spotlight shone down. The Dream Woman, dressed in the red leather 

dress--was seated at a round wooden table. Her blood-red eyes glinted, reflected the 

shininess of the table's polished surface. 

_____As caused by the events happening in the city, her transformation was nearly complete.

To complete her change, she needed something... She turned her head to the side, and 

something came out of the darkness--an electric upright vacuum cleaner. No one was touching 

it, and no one was pushing it. The electric vacuum cleaner could move on its own.

_____When it approached the table, pieces of something clattered onto the table. These

were angular shards of cast metal tinged with powdered redness. Put together, the pieces

would form a metal bowl. But not now: the bowl was broken. 

_____"This will have the taste of pain," she said to the vacuum cleaner. The electric vacuum 

cleaner said nothing in response. But those in the darkness made low laughter and whispered 

comments about what she meant by that. 

_____But they went silent when the Dream Woman began to do something. Her delicate 

fingers grasped a piece of the shattered metal bowl. Closing her blood-colored eyes, she 

opened her mouth and brought a piece to her mouth. She was somehow able to get the 

entire shard in, swallowed. It was quite a lump as it traveled down her slender neck--going 

into her body. 

_____Then came another piece of the metal bowl, swallowed in the same painful-looking way.

Those in the surrounding darkness whispered excitedly about what was happening now. 

They and the electric vacuum cleaner were witness to the Dream Woman consuming the 

pieces of the shattered metal bowl. One would have expected her to cut her thin delicate lips 

on the shards--hurting herself somehow in doing this. Expected blood to come dribbling from 

between her lips. Instead, the blood poured down her long hair and dribbled from her eyes. 

It really was painful, but a GOOD kind of painful. It was the pain of change.

_____When the final piece was swallowed, Sera had put it into her mouth--because Sera 

was now sitting exactly where the Dream Woman was. Her dark eyes stared out from her

own face. Long red hair cascaded down her back. Sera now wore the red leather dress.

_____"I want my SMILE-COLORED CONTAINERS!" she said aloud. "Blue hats go 

good with white hair! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha...!" She tilted back her head and opened her 

mouth, letting the laughter echo from within. Still laughing, she took two little strips of red-flavored 

gum from nowhere and gave it to the electric vacuum cleaner. 

...

_____Lissette was sitting on a cushioned chair when Kela and Jake suddenly got up from the 

blankets on the floor, the pillows still impressed from where their heads had rested. Lissette 

had set the blankets and pillows to make the two comfortable while they lie unconscious. 

She didn't know why the two had fainted. 

_____"What's up, guys?" she asked as the two teenagers got up and found seats at 

computer workstations. "Uh, hello...! Would you two PLEASE talk to me? You're acting 

especially creepy. It's bad enough that it's so quiet and abandoned outside... What are you

doing?"

_____The lights flickered and there was the sound of buzzing electricity. Both computers

came on, hacking programs up and ready. But Lissette didn't even see the machines boot up.

She wondered, What the Hell is going on here? Kela and Jake began using the keyboards

to tap in a series of commands. Lissette had a look at the computer monitors...which showed

program coding she had never seen before. 

...

_____The technician in blue coveralls was slumped at the monitoring terminal, his dried eyes 

bulging and mouth hanging open. He was dead for some hours now, head caved in from 

hard blows. That was not what killed him, though: His "brain" was actually a hexagonal chip 

deep within his generally empty skull. The head injuries didn't kill him, but the bloody pipe 

jammed through his chest had done the job.

_____Yes, the pipe did its job, but the technician would no longer do his! This technician's 

purpose was to monitor the temperature and output of this fusion reactor--one of several in 

Zalem. Yes, the fusion power plant was literally IN Zalem: deep within the structure of the 

vast floating city. Though the master computer of Zalem began to totally malfunction and 

spout nonsense, he continued to perform his function of monitoring. And even as the streets 

of this floating city burned with the flames and chaos of rioting, he would keep at it.

_____He kept working until his artificial brain--the hexagonal chip--became weary and he

had to sleep. Wild-eyed rioters infiltrated this area and killed all the technicians, killed the 

man while he slept. Then the rioters smashed all the machines they could find. 

_____So he didn't wake up. So the rioters did their damage and went elsewhere to do more

things! Here lie the murdered technician at the monitoring terminal: the cracked monitor now

showing a great deal of blinking red graphs and WARNING signals. 

_____Ah, Hell... Now the WARNING signals were getting very serious. A small picture 

showed flames coming out from cracks in the fusion containment core. What did he care? 

He was dead.

_____All the while, the riots continued to ruin the wonderful floating city. Melchezedek, the

mighty master-computer of the floating city and the world's factories, was caught in a whole

series of logic loops, checksum errors, I/O parity malfunctions, short-circuiting problems and 

a great deal of other mess. Centuries of little and minor irrepairable problems deep within the 

computer's hardware had built up... Continued to build up. Then there were the hackers 

who sent in some computer viruses that Melchezedek could not stop. Now the grand and 

mighty machine was as dead as that technician slumped at that monitoring terminal--unable 

to do anything about what was happening. 

_____As dead as the monitoring terminal...whic began to beep! All throughout the complex, 

warning klaxons and automated emergency announcements made frightful declarations

about all kinds of nightmarish problems happening RIGHT NOW. But the rioters didn't 

care, their now-unregulated chip-brains full of violence. And the dead people--dead from the

riots--didn't care either. Then came the overload when this fusion reactor went critical.

...

_____There was a white, bright spherical explosion in the night sky. It was Hellishly bright 

and hot. For a few moments, it was like having a second sun to light up the darkness--lighting

up the junk-covered landscape below. It was metal junk for hundreds of miles, piled up into

clunky mountains and flat chunky expanses stretching into the horizon. Everything was visible 

around here, and it felt hot. It really WAS hot, as hot as a summer day. Then came the 

shockwave, reaching the ground.

_____Junk was blasted and strewn about. It blew away mountains of junk and metal trash, 

shoving and spreading waves of debris. Anyone scavenging for spare cyborg parts around 

here was killed. Luckily, this wasn't the main population area. Random large pieces of 

Zalem would come crashing down for several weeks to come after this. Indeed, the master

behind the world-controlling Network was dead. 

...

4.

...

_____The next day, late afternoon, Lissette stepped into one of her club's favorite drinking 

places: The Turning Wheel. Extensive reconstruction in some parts of town had been going

on all day. Large trucks had been moving back and forth, carrying away debris and bringing

back building supplies from warehouses at the edge of this sector. But the day's work was

done. Lissette herself had spent some time personally overseeing reconfiguration and repair

of some pretty expensive computer setups--damaged during the fighting. Thank goodness 

the raids were over quickly. Now, showered and dressed in blouse and jeans--small purse 

over a shoulder--she was going to relax with friends.

_____She stepped into the dimly lit and well-packed bar, the warm lights illuminating the 

noisy place. Damn, this place is crowded. Lissette looked around, saw most every table 

full of people. And the drinking bar itself was packed, every high stool occupied by a 

fleshie or cyborg. The bartender and servers were quickly hustling drinks all over the place

and making plenty of chips. But where were... Ah! There they are! 

_____She saw her closest friends sitting at one of the tables to her left, talking to someone.

It was hard to tell who they were talking to from here. Besides, Sam's chubby self was

blocking the view. She stepped between tables and dodged a few waiters in getting over to

there. 

_____Kela waved and smiled as Lissette came up to the table. Lissette had a look at who 

everyone was talking to at that table over there--a surprisingly pretty girl. Her long hair was 

combed straight back from a smooth and beautiful face: a face with delicate features and large 

dark eyes. Her creamy skin-tone was offset by the blue blouse she wore. Beneath the table, 

her slender legs were covered to mid-thigh by a simple red skirt. Somebody is fooling with 

my mind, she thought as she stared at the girl. 

_____"Well, have a SEAT, Lissette!" demanded Kela, her gold eyes twinkling. "You're 

lucky we were able to save a place for you!" So Lissette did, slowly sitting down. That girl 

shouldn't be here, she thought. There was no way at all she could be here. It was absolutely 

impossible. 

_____A waitress came up to the table--her metal body mostly concealed by the semi-formal

uniform worn by the staff of this bar. "Welcome to The Turning Wheel, miss!" she said 

above the chatter of the small crowd. "What will you be having?" 

_____"I'll take a light wine for now... I suppose," she said. The waitress nodded and walked

away. And she locked eyes with the girl sitting opposite her right now. She thought back to

yesterday, how she painfully fought with Sera and had been nearly "killed." She remembered

the way her heel struck the metal of Sera's neck machinery--the throat. Sera was a cyborg,

and Sera died as a cyborg. 

_____Sam looked left and quickly raised a hand. "Hiya there, Lissette!" He took a sip of

red-colored wine with his left hand, gestured to the red-haired girl to his right. "The young

lady here is named Sera. She came to this part of town when the trouble started yesterday.

An' now she's looking for her family."

_____"Yeah, that's right," said the red-haired girl. "I haven't seen them for a really long time

because we've all been distracted. You know, from work and everything. Life is really 

distracting." She took a drink from her glass of red wine. "I work nights and sleep most of

the day. So it's hard to visit relatives. But didn't I tell you this before, Lissette? About two

weeks ago or something?"

_____Lissette was quiet for some seconds, Sera matching her stare. How could she best 

answer this? "Yes, you told me already. I just thought that you would have found them 

already," she said. Found them after you DIED, she thought.

_____"What? Hey, NO FAIR!" whined Kela. "You didn't tell me you two knew each other!

Lissette, why didn't you tell me you knew somebody THIS COOL! Yeah, yeah... Did you

know that she can do magic tricks with her MIND? I don't know HO-O-OW she does them,

but they're really cool. Show her, Sera!" 

_____The waitress came back with a glass and two bottles. "I wasn't sure of what you wanted,

Miss. So I brought you two light wines. Wine coolers, really. They're both good: Everyone's

drinking these two varieties tonight. So..."

_____Lissette took out six credit-chips of moderate value. "Leave the apple-red here." She

paid the waitress, and the bottle was left on the table. Then she poured herself a glass and 

listened to Kela rant a little.

_____Obviously, Kela's enthusiasm was helped along with a little too much to drink. The 

purple-haired girl was often cheerful and talkative; now she seemed annoying. And what was

there for Lissette to see?

_____"A magic trick, you say?" asked Sera. "Oh, okay... Let me think about this. Gimme

a sec." She half-closed her dark eyes and bowed her head. Then Lissette began to feel odd

and slight pinpricks all over. It was the feel of static electricity building in the air, which didn't 

feel good to a humanoid robot like herself. Then the light above the table began to flicker,

and slight breezes swirled around this table. Everything seemed to go quiet for some seconds,

and Lissette was beginning to feel light-headed... A sure sign that high electrical interference

was tangling with her processors.

_____"No, I can't do it with Lissette," said Sera, breaking the odd moment. Everything had

returned to normal. The red-haired girl gave a weak smile. "I suppose it doesn't work with...

Uh..." She stared hard at Lissette. "Doesn't work with certain kinds of people... If you know

what I mean." 

_____"It's still pretty creepy," said Sam. "I SWEAR that the girl can read my mind if she 

wanted to. And she made the lights in this place flicker too..." He looked over at Sera. 

"Hey, you've gotta teach me how ya do that...if you're gonna be in this part of town for a 

while."

_____"Huh-huh..." chuckled Jake, taking a drink of his beer. He had been quiet all of this

time. Then again, that was nothing new for him. 

_____Sera looked down for a moment. Looking carefully enough, Lissette thought the girl

was listening to something. She looked up and smiled. "I'm not sure if that's possible, but... 

Maybe some other time. Let's talk about something else, please? 

_____"Sure! Why not?" said Kela, putting down her drink. She put her skinny elbows atop 

the table, rested her chin in her hands. "Hmm... I KNOW! Let's talk about our jobs! Hey

Lissette, what're we gonna do for cash now, HUH? Like, Zalem's been TOASTED or 

something an' all the netmen have stopped tryin' to connect this sector. For all we know, 

maybe all the netmen, like, ALL DIED when Melche... Melche..." HICCUP! "Whoops!

You know what I'm talking about, the big master computer-thingy... Um, what was I saying 

again?"

_____"You were talking about your job," said Sera. "How you work with computer-machines 

or something. That sounds pretty complicated. Hmm..." She reached sideways and wrapped

her fingers around Kela's wineglass. She sipped, returned the glass of red-colored drink to

its original place on the table. The lights over the table flickered... "Oh, I understand now. 

You're all network hackers. You can infiltrate servers and mess up the coding "

_____That's funny, thought Lissette. She thought Kela was drinking beer before--not red

wine-cooler. But there it was: a perfectly shiny glass of dark red drink. Hmm... She tried 

to reach for it, touch it, see if it was real. 

_____"Oh NO YOU DON'T!" blurted Kela. She then downed her entire glass in one solid

gulp. Then the incandescent light over this table flickered... "We've been really close 

friends and all, Lissette. But we're not THAT cool. Anyway, don't you...have your own 

drink right there in front of you?"

_____Before Lissette could answer, the lights flickered yet again. Kela sipped her...beer.

BEER? Then Sam spoke up. "HEY! Yeah, we're hackers. Still are, I bet. Feng-Long 

needs people to keep its computer networks up. And if they DON'T pay us... Heh-heh-heh."

_____"Wait a minute, guys!" said Lissette. "Hold it! Kela, don't take another sip. Sam,

put down the wine. Jake, don't say ANYTHING... And YOU, Sera, stay here." Everyone

at this table stared at her. "Something really screwed up is going on. Sorry, but I just 

can't take it anymore. Kela, weren't you just drinking wine? And what's up with the lights?

Sera, I've seen you somewhere before. You were a cyborg." 

_____Sam looked sideways at Lissette, his face blank. Kela's mouth hung open, her 

sunrise-colored eyes wide open--a facial expression that meant, HUH? Jake started to 

chuckle just as all the bar's lights began to go out completely. "Huh-huh-huh... Huh-huh-huh..." 

...

_____While darkness covered everything else, this table alone was lit with a spotlight from

above. This glaringly white spotlight seemed to heat the table, making the polished surface

gleam. Sera sat here, three bowls of oatmeal in front of three seats. Two bowls of oatmeal

were plain; one bowl was cinnamon-flavored. There was no bowl of oatmeal for whoever 

was supposed to sit opposite Sera. The pile of sand on the seat was silent.

...

_____She opened her eyes. Yes, everyone was still staring at her. "Hey, Lissette, are you 

okay?" asked Kela. "It was like you weren't here for a second. After this, Joe and I could

check you out, make sure that you're working fine. If you know what I mean."

_____"That's okay," said Lissette, getting up from the table. "I... I think I'll go take a nap or

something." She took some credit chips out of her purse and put them atop the table--next

to the glass of wine-cooler. "This ought to cover the tip. See you all later." Then she turned

and began to walk away.

_____A gentle but firm grip closed over her left shoulder. A metal hand... Sam's left hand, 

beyond the sleeve of his black jacket, was metal. He was already on the way to becoming 

a cyborg. It was yet another thing that Lissette hadn't noticed before. 

_____Sam spoke. "Why're you leavin', toots? Sera's just getting started!" he said to her. 

Lissette gasped when the metal hand squeezed. "Don't you wanna hang around and see 

what else she has to say?"

_____"Not now. Please... Please let me go." said Lissette. Sam released her shoulder, and 

she quickly stepped away. She didn't know what was going on. All she knew was that she 

had to get out of here before something else weird happened. Flickering lights, randomly 

changing drinks, and Sera sitting at the table. Sera, who was supposed to be dead. 

... 

_____With bodyguards standing near the wall, Mr. Yin sat at a grand dinner table with 

Ayame Suzuka--a rather elegant, attractive, and intelligent woman. The slim female was 

clad in a dark gown that left her smooth shoulders bare. He thought her eyes to be like 

deep dark jewels, her long dark hair like brushed strands of black silk.

_____She had more than mind enough to match her beauty, her smooth sweet voice gently

flowing with the words from her delicious mouth. "As I have said, the idea of an alien culture

being succintly human is an absurd notion. Beings from another world or from an alternate

universe would be very much unlike us."

_____Mr. Yin pressed his palms together. "Ah, Ayame... Yet we cannot put aside cultural 

relativism. All people are the same in some way, because all people are PEOPLE. The 

ancient works of science fiction, such as STAR TREK, depict alien beings as just different 

versions of humanity."

_____"Such science fiction was deeply flawed and ignorant," countered Ayame. "All of the

so-called aliens in STAR TREK were all actors in low-budget stage makeup, all of them with 

the same language and the same attitudes. All of the 'aliens' behaved exactly like Ancient 

Europeans! In the real world, people in the next country over speak a different language 

and see the world in a very different manner. How can alien beings be the same and familiar

when even we humans are dissimilar from each other?"

_____Mr. Yin looked somewhat crestfallen at this point. This went against everything he wanted

to believe about humanity. He wanted to believe that all people, anywhere, were all basically 

the same—even if they did come from somewhere else. He wanted to believe that, somewhere

beyond the sky and among the stars, there were people who were essentially human: more 

human than the waste and the scum that inhabited THIS planet… Yes, he listened to what 

Ayame had to say, though it hurt to do so.

_____She continued her explanation. "Think on it for even a moment. Human beings of 

different lands are different from each other, so how could beings from somewhere else 

behave almost exclusively like Ancient Europeans? Beings from outer space or an alternate

reality, would be so fundamentally different from human beings that they would seem 

bizarre."

...

_____Lissette stopped walking at the streetcorner. The inside of the bar back there may 

have been well-lit and noisy, but out here was more quiet and dark. There was just the 

sound of the occasional passing car and some cyborgs walking by in the city night--pools of 

light created by florescent street-lamps. 

_____Strangely enough, she began to hear birds, the sound of birds. Looking around, the 

synthetic girl was vaguely confused. She HEARD the sound of birds on the wind--but could 

not see them. All that she saw were the night-darkened streets and the hard concrete 

buildings. Some of the buildings stretched up to the infinitely black night sky above. 

_____Chirp-chirp-chirp... Birds? Then there was the rapid flapping of wings overhead, up 

in the infinitely dark sky above. Lissette looked up, but saw no birds. So where the Hell 

was that sound coming from? As she stood there, neck arched back and face looking up, 

some of the streetlamps began to flicker off. 

_____Something was going wrong. The lights in the building windows began to do the same. 

Flicker-flicker... Wink! One by one, the city lights began to wink out. Before long, there was 

sheer and deep darkness, only punctuated by pools of light beneath the streetlamps. 

...

_____Back in the bar, Sera seemed to be all alone--seemed to be, but wasn't. She had the 

shadows and the oatmeal to keep her company. The bowls of oatmeal were atop the tables. 

And the shadows were all around, standing in the darkness. She had called up the

darkness.

...

_____Outside, the city lights were still going out. Oh God, a power outage, thought Lissette. 

She had never seen a power outage before, but she knew what it was. She decided that it 

would be a good idea to get to her nearest computer lab and hide before the panic started 

or it was too damned dark to see. Then the streets would be dangerous, full of panicking 

cyborgs and humans. Panicking cyborgs were the worst: People with metal bodies, worried

and angered, they would go running through the darkness and doing damage to anyone or

anything in their way. All because of the power outage.

…

_____Yes, she had done it again! The inside of the bar was very quiet. Spotlights shone 

directly down on each table--bowls of oatmeal gleaming in the white illumination. Sera tilted 

back her head and opened her mouth, laughter rippling from within her. She could laugh as 

loud as she pleased; the bowls of oatmeal wouldn't complain! 

…

_____But...why now? Why were the lights going out, even after decades and centuries of 

reliability? Maybe it had to do with the floating City of Zalem blowing up. Zalem's destruction 

only happened yesterday... Would there be more power outages now that Zalem was no longer 

up in the sky, controlling things? After all, the master computer in the floating city was able 

to regulate most of the utilities. Maybe it also regulated the fusion power plants... Zalem 

was able to regulate a lot of things. Not anymore, though. Somehow, Lissette got the 

idea that this wasn't an ordinary blackout. This was something else... She started to run.

...

____"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha...!" laughed Sera. She had all the nearby bowls of oatmeal on her 

table now. There was no need for the other spotlights in here. So, with a thought, she turned

them off. A spoon appeared on the table, and she picked it up. All the bowls, they were all 

faintly flavored with cinnamon now! And when she ate them, they would all be delicious! 

Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha...!

_____As she laughed, blue smoke began to billow out from the darkness beyond the 

spotlight. She then raised her spoon and dipped into a cinnamon-flavored bowl of oatmeal. 

Someone screamed when she did that, the spoon penetrating the mush. She though it funny,

how oatmeal could scream when being eaten. 

...

_____Lissette stopped running, stopping beneath a rust-poled streetlamp. At least now, 

she could let her body cool down. She could run a lot farther than a real human, but her 

synthetic muscle tissue tended to heat up after prolonged rigorous use. And standing in the 

pool of light made her feel more comfortable than running through the vast spaces of 

darkness between the streetlamps. 

_____Flap-flap-flap-flap-flap-flap…! Another vast flock of birds flew overhead in the 

darkness. And the wind continued to how through the night-darkened city. There was

also the truck... Somewhere nearby, there was the black-painted truck. Its engine could be 

heard right along with the sound of the birds...in the wind... 

_____The birds and the truck! Why couldn't she see them? And why was it so dark? 

Lissette's visual systems were a lot more powerful than even cyborg eyesight. She should 

have been able to see the buildings and the street beyond the bright lights of the streetlamps. 

Should have!

...

_____"Furthermore," continued Ayame, "even if they did choose to speak our languages 

or disguise themselves as human beings, they would still be bizarre due to linguistic translation 

errors and omissions. For one example, we are speaking English at the moment--though I 

speak Japanese with family, and French with some other friends. I am sure you speak 

Mandarin Chinese at times: You still have your accent. Notice how some of our behaviors 

and words are lost in translation! 

_____"Therefore, due to innate linguistic and differences, visits from alien beings who come 

from another planet or an alternate reality would be like a dream...or a nightmare. In fact, 

visiting them through dreams and nightmares may be the only way to hold company with 

them! For goodness sake… STAR TREK!"

_____At this point, Mr. Yin looked up, saw that Ayame's fine cheeks were flushed with

frustration. She looked even more ravishing that way. "Ah... Ha-ha-ha..." he gently 

laughed. "Yet how can you even be sure of that, my dear? There is no solid evidence of 

human beings visiting other-worldly beings from Another Place. Through dreams, abduction 

or otherwise. What you say is logical, but merely based on conjecture and analysis. How 

do you know?" 

_____At this point, Ayame brought her right hand to the front of her slender neck. Her fingers 

traced a very faint line of a scar across her throat. Years ago, a killer had cut her and run

away, chased away by neighbors. But the cut was shallow and she had lived--after a period

of unconsciousness and darkness: The cut only nicked an artery in her neck. Meaning, she

had come close enough to death that she lived to tell about it. "Trust me, Yin," she said. 

"I have been to…Another Place. The people there are darker than you would know." Then 

the restaurant lights flickered and went out.

...

_____Frightened, Lissette continued to run through the darkened city. As she ran on, running

in the spaces of darkness between the lights, she would get an occasional whiff of cinnamon

in the air--immediately followed by the smell of blood. And sometimes, she would hear 

birds. What the HELL was happening? 

_____The gloom and darkness was all around, filled by the sound of the wind and the 

occasional sound of birds flying in the dark starless sky overhead. The rapid rhythm of her 

running feet accompanied her off into the light-spotted darkness. There was a lot more 

darkness than light. 


End file.
